Getaway
by otterly delightful
Summary: Three couples board a cruise ship, looking for a simple vacation. They don't get one.
1. It'll be fun

7:00AM –– 2 HOURS UNTIL BOARDING

The sky was blue and the sun shone down on Zootopia, a picture perfect day for its animal citizens. From the Meadowlands all the way to Savanna Central, animals were waking up and starting their days with an extra little pep in their step.

Sahara Square had it the best. The sand was that delicate mix of scorching and soft to step on, and all around desert animals rejoiced at the amazing weather.

The docks were no exception. Seven hundred mammals (all either powerful, insanely rich or both) were gathered there on that fine morning, standing in a weird hybrid of a crowd and a line. All around, mammals of all kinds were bustling through the docks. Elephants stomped around, talking boisterously and giving several mice families a reason to fear for their lives. Lions sat on the ground, leaning on their suitcases in giant clumps of grumpy slumber.

Each and every one was waiting for a chance to board The Crimson Carrackal, Seabear Cruise's newest luxury ship.

In the midst of it all a wolf and his wife strolled through the crowd.

* * *

Shepard's nose wasn't malfunctioning. He could still smell her, still pick her scent apart from hundreds of others in the crowd. It was his eyes that betrayed him. Whenever he looked at her and didn't see her white wool, nerdy glasses, and dorky clothes, he would think for a second: "Is that really my wife?"

Then she'd speak, and the wolf would know that she was definitely his Dawn. Sometimes he would laugh about how ironic it was that he was married to a sheep. They used to herd them, after all. Then she started a race war between predator and prey, and then it got _really_ ironic that he was married to her.

Speaking of, she was looking at him right now. _Shit_. She must have noticed his staring.

Dawn slowed her walking and met his eyes. "Something wrong, Shep?"

Stupid him. Now she was gonna freak out internally about how she was ruining everything, but pretend all the while that nothing was wrong. It had only been a year since her release and their reunion, and she was still dealing with all of her regret and guilt about her crimes.

He elected to smile at her. Hopefully ease her fear before it started. "Not at all, sweetie! I just think you look better white."

The statement made her giggle. Shepard held back his sigh of relief.

"I think you can handle beige for a few weeks." she said, her voice crackling adorably.

Suddenly, Shepard grabbed her hand and pulled her back. He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned, flashing his dangerous (but _oh so sexy_ ) razor edge teeth. His voice dropped into a sensual whisper. "As long as I get some of that pink…"

Dawn blushed and leaned into the embrace, nuzzling her husband's arm. "Once we're on the ship, honey."

And what a ship it was. The cruise liner was the highest of its caliber. No expenses barred––all of the rooms were essentially presidential suites, two pools capable of holding 300 elephants at one time, a casino, four spas! They could only spend two weeks here? It was worth more money than he could ever make in his entire life!

"You sure you want to do this?" Shepard squeezed his wife's hand comfortingly.

"Of course!" she chirped. "Do you?"

"I wasn't sure about it before…" Shepard felt Dawn's posture sag in disappointment. His heart sank with her, but it was the truth, and it was important that he share it. On the bright side, he was slowly changing his mind. Shepard continued to talk, adding to his previous statement with an optimistic ring to his voice. "I think I'm feeling better about it, now! I guess I'm just worried about you."

A moment passed, and then a hand pawed at Shepard's chest. Dawn's way of asking him to crouch down for a kiss. Being a 6 foot tall wolf didn't make it easy for her to show him affection when she wanted. He complied with her request, and their muzzles met. Warm breath and wet tongues mingled in way that they had many times before. Eventually they broke away from each other, if only to catch their breath. Dawn looked up at her husband, gratitude and passion in her eyes. "Don't work yourself up, okay? We're on vacation. The whole point is to NOT worry about anything."

Shepard smiled back at her. "I'm sorry. I believe you."

The Bellwethers leaned on each other, turning their gaze to the ship. It wouldn't be long until they were allowed to board.

"It'll be fun." Dawn whispered, talking more to herself than to Shepard.

* * *

7:30 –– 1 HOUR 30 MINS UNTIL BOARDING

Wolford was not happy. His feet hurt. The last time they'd been so sore was during the Academy. He shifted his weight and shook his right leg in an attempt to ease his pain. He'd been standing in line for…3 hours, now. Scanning the crowd proved fruitless, as it had the past 15 times. _Where the hell is he?_

The grayish black wolf sniffed the air. The salty breeze of the docks filled his nostrils, as well as the scents of the many animals in the vicinity. He caught a faint whiff of who he was looking for, and the scent became stronger and stronger until finally, Wolford had him in sight.

Fangmeyer was 165 pounds of pristine white fluff and goofiness. Wolford crossed his arms and frowned, growling at his boyfriend when they were finally within hearing distance of each other. "What the hell took you so long, Fangmeyer?"

Fangmeyer smiled, an unapologetic look in his eye. "You know me, I don't really do so well in crowds. Remember when I got lost at that festival in Bunnyburrow last year?"

"I do. I had to come and pick you up from a lost kids tent." Wolford deadpanned.

"Mmm. Remember how they thought you were my brother?" Fangmeyer slinked his way into Wolford's personal space, getting in close and pressing his cold nose to the other wolf's neck. They were never really too big into PDA, but instances like this weren't exactly uncommon.

Wolford shivered. Fangmeyer was now licking him affectionately.

"Save it for the boat."

"I get sea-sick! This might be the last time in two weeks that I can love you without also wanting to puke my guts out."

* * *

8:00 AM –– 1 HOUR UNTIL BOARDING

"Give me my phone."

"No. If I do then you'll make me go through the checklist again."

"What if we forgot something? What if Finnick lost his extra keys and someone breaks in? What if we've made the worst mistake of our lives by getting onto this boat?"

"Calm down, Hopps. I have everything under control, and by 'under control' I mean I'm not gonna worry about it. Neither should you."

"Nick! This isn't funny!" Judy glared at her fox companion before quickly returning to the road.

Nick shrugged, leaning back and enjoying the comfy passenger seat. The couple was headed to a cruise vacation–all Nick's idea, of course.

Judy was excited when she first heard about it, but the poor bunny quickly devolved into a bundle of nerves. Before Nick knew what was going on, she had several checklists that she was ticking off at any given moment and an endless amount of travel blogs open on her phone. He figured that she was just channeling her uneasiness about taking days off into their packing, but two nights ago after they came home from work, Judy confided in him that she'd never taken a vacation in her life.

It only made sense that she would want her _very first vacation_ to be perfect, and it was absolutely adorable! "Carrots. You've been stressing since we woke up even though you checked over everything eight times last night. Our luggage has everything we need, Finnick's gonna watch the loft while we're gone and Delgato's taking care of our car. We're golden."

"I-But…" Judy stuttered. Nick was surprisingly organized and having him around definitely helped her nervousness, but there were still so many things that could go wrong…

"Hey."

A paw started stroking the top of her head. Judy struggled to hold back a dreamy sigh. As much as it pained her to admit it, the petting _really hit the spot._ Her ears twitched as she felt a muzzle come in close, moving until it was mere inches away from her head.

Nick's voice turned husky. He leaned in close, wet nose almost making contact with her ear, whispering to her. "It's gonna be okay, okay?"

Judy prepared a firm and logical rebuttal as they pulled into the parking lot, but in the end, decided not to say it.

Not because she believed him or anything. She was just…taking a break from being right, was all.

* * *

9:00 AM –– BOARDING TIME

The Crimson Carrackal opened its gates as soon as the clock struck nine.

Alexander Wolford and Jacob Fangmeyer were near the front. They were ZPD officers. Good ones, too. One of them was even preparing for the detective exam! Though if you'd asked his boyfriend about it, he'd have no idea what you were talking about...

Dawn and Shepard Bellwether were in the middle of the line. No one was supposed to know who they were.

And finally, Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps. They arrived last, out of the six. They didn't end up in the back of the line, but they were pretty close.

The wolves, the heroes, and the criminals all boarded the ship.

Ten pairs of eyes watched their every move.


	2. Some weird untold story

_This bed is fucking lavish._ Wolford rolled around, happily appreciating the change from his and Fangmeyer's ratty IKEA mattress. Queen sized, snow white satin sheets with gold trim, pillows fluffier than his tail…he could definitely get used to this.

Their room on the cruise was as big as their two bedroom apartment, and all of the extras were probably worth more than their possessions combined. Bogo managing to snag them a pair of tickets for free was a miracle. Wolford made a mental note to buy him a 'Boss of the Year' mug or something.

"We have a _jacuzzi!_ And the free shampoo is in a regular sized bottle!" An awestruck Fangmeyer called from the bathroom.

"The Lion in the Sky has answered our prayers!" Wolford called back, his usually monotone voice betraying a hint of playfulness. He stretched himself out on the immaculate bedspread, giving a satisfied little murmur at the sound of his back popping. He called again. "You gonna join me out here or what? We still need to unpack."

Fangmeyer popped his head out of the doorframe, a big smile on his face. "Think I'm gonna shower, first." He waggled his eyebrows. "Wanna help?"

"I think I'd rather save the naughty stuff for later." Wolford said as he opened up a suitcase.

"Suit yourself!"

Wolford heard the shower turn on, followed by the sound of Fangmeyer's clothes carelessly being tossed onto the floor. He rummaged around, looking for something in his suitcase that would help him wait.

* * *

It was some time later that Fangmeyer strutted out of the bathroom with no clothes on. He was extra fluffed up, a result from using the fur dryer instead of just a towel. The wolf crept up behind his boyfriend and peeked over his shoulder.

Wolford was on the bed, lying on his stomach. He made no reaction to Fangmeyer's movements, entranced by the ZNN article in his hand.

" _Dawn Bellwether released from prison and put under house arrest."_

Deciding to announce himself, Fangmeyer plunged his tongue into Wolford's ear as deep as he could.

"Gah! Fang!" Wolford attempted to get away, but ended up tangling himself in the bedsheets.

Snickering all the while, Fangmeyer slithered across the bed and straddled Wolford's chest. The black wolf glared up at him.

"What the hell?" Wolford complained.

Fangmeyer took his hand and scratched the side of Wolford's neck, a personal favorite spot of his. "You've been reading that article over and over since it came out. And that was over a year ago. Don't think I haven't noticed. What's with you?"

"Will you get off me first?"

"Promise to tell me why you're obsessing over Dawn Bellwether like she's a hooker who came to you for help and then ended up dead the next day, and when you take the case and investigate her murder it ends up drawing you into a conspiracy that's way bigger than–"

"Yes, just _please_ get off."

Fangmeyer complied, opting to get under the sheets and snuggle close to his boyfriend's side.

Wrapping an arm around the white wolf and drawing him close, Wolford pet Fangmeyer absentmindedly. "Where to start? My cousin's a prison guard. You remember Louie?"

"The half coyote dude from thanksgiving?"

"Yeah. He was on shift the day that Bellwether was released. Did you know that she's married to one of us? Anyway, Louie's watching her walk out and he notices a lone car waiting for her."

"Spooooky."

Wolford rolled his eyes. "The car is sheep sized, right? So naturally, Louie was confused when he sees this gigantic wolf squeeze out of it and wait for Bellwether. And what Louie tells me he saw…."

The black wolf turned quiet. Fangmeyer squeezed him, talking softly. "What? What did he see?"

Wolford stared at the ceiling. His voice turned hushed, muted by confusion and wonder. "He sees this infamous pred hating bioterrorist cry, and then tearfully reunite with her husband."

"That's not 'read the news article about her release several times each month for a year afterwards' weird. What's up?" Fangmeyer asked.

A hand scratched at the side of Wolford's neck. He leaned into it, welcoming the affection. "I don't know. I get that everyone has their reasons for breaking the law, but I feel like there's a weird…untold story with Bellwether."

The conversation dipped into a lull, and for a moment, all was quiet. Wolford felt himself begin to drift off into sleep…

"Hey, you ever wonder why tanukis have this weird vice grip on the camera industry?"

Wolford was speechless. "Did you accidentally eat xanax again?"

"No! I'm serious! Give me a successful camera company that isn't run by raccoon dogs."

Wolford rolled his eyes, but decided to play whatever game the other wolf was trying to play. He took a second to think of a camera company. "Uh…Kodak?"

Fangmeyer shook his head. "Fuck Kodak."

"Hmm. Polaroid?"

"Something that isn't used by annoying hipster chicks that spend too much time on Bunblr."

Wolford tried to think of something, and after a few seconds, he found that he couldn't. "You got me. What's your point?"

"Y'know, I was hoping that I would remember by the time you named something, but..."

The wolf laughed slightly. He turned his head and looked at Fangmeyer, who was staring at the wall like the cure to his attention deficit would burst through. "Why don't you unpack and I go get us some food?"

Fangmeyer snapped out of his trance. "You sure that you don't want me to come with? We still need to tour the place."

"Nah. I'm just going to the food court. We can check out the rest of the ship later. It's only like, nine, anyway." Wolford took a second to lick a rather disheveled spot on Fangmeyer's neck. When his partner was sufficiently groomed, he made his way to the door. "You want a bug burger or tofu?"

* * *

The food court was one of many on the ship, and it was still filled to the brim. Fast food joints were set up all around, all with relatively long lines. Chatter filled the room, making it hard to decipher what was being said anywhere more than four feet away from oneself.

Shepard leaned against a wall as he waited for his Panda Express order to come out. He and Dawn had decided it would be best to fill their stomachs before touring the different facilities. Shepard looked around, admiring just how _alive_ the whole place looked. Different varieties of animals danced around each other, trays in hand, places to be.

A few minutes later the jaguar teenager working the stand called out. "Order #34! Two bamboo salads!"

The wolf took his order tray and walked out of the food court, narrowly avoiding crashing into several other animals on the way out. He turned the corner–

"Shit!"

And crashed full force into another wolf, spilling his breakfast all over the both of them and just about everywhere else. Shepard gasped. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"

The other wolf took it pretty well, giving himself a once-over and shrugging. "It's cool. Accidents happen, right?"

Shepard helped him to his feet and brushed the rest of the food off. "They do, but I'm still sorry."

They shared a polite smile. The black wolf spoke up. "How about you stand in line with me to make up for it?"

Heat rose to Shepard's face.

"I–uh, I have a wife." He stammered.

The stranger's eyes widened, and he laughed. "I didn't mean it like that! I'm seeing someone, myself. Why don't you tell me about your wife while we wait?"

Relief spread throughout Shepard's body. He laughed at himself, nodded his head and stuck his hand out. "Sure thing. I'm Shepard!"

The black wolf shook his hand. "Alex. But I'm Wolford, to you. All my friends call me by my last name, which is really weird now that I think about it…"


	3. Hold me the entire time

Waves of sleep came to help his mind drift away, pulling him in and swallowing him whole. His snout was the only thing poking out of the cavern of sheets he had made for himself, trapping his body in a comfy burrito of relaxation. " _Nice and toasty."_ he thought to himself. It was the most comfortable he'd ever been that week. Between work (Bogo had made him do all of Fangmeyer's paperwork for a week as punishment for pulling another howl prank) and getting Judy to chill out, Nick had never really had a chance to just lie down and be peaceful. Plans for the next two weeks began to flash through his mind. Sleeping in bed with Judy, sipping wine in the bathroom jacuzzi, ordering food to their room, sleeping a bit more…maybe they'd even check the cruise out if they had time.

A sharp pain arose on the bone of his snout, right in the middle. Someone had flicked him. The fox groaned, wrinkling his nose in displeasure. "What?"

He heard his bunny sigh, unamused. Her paws felt around the blanket burrito, looking for his head. This was the third time he had fallen asleep on her. If she didn't make him wake up now, there was a chance that she would lose him for the rest of the day. That _wasn't happening._ Not on her watch. She found his ears and tugged at them through the blanket. "Nick, it's thirty degrees outside. How are you not panting your lungs out?"

"Talent, I guess." Nick responded. He rolled over, away from the sleep ruining bunny. It wasn't his fault he was born like this! Try as he might to resist his instincts, foxes were nocturnal animals. On average he needed around three large fox sized cups of coffee to function, and on this particular morning he had none. Since joining the ZPD he'd gotten better about it; nowadays he could bring himself to sleep at around 1 AM instead of 4.

The rabbit wasn't having it. She jumped onto the bed and attempted to drag Nick off of it, but found that he was a lot heavier than he looked. Huffing in frustration, she grumbled "It's Nine o' clock in the morning, Nick." Her fox grumbled, and continued to give no response. Judy crawled to the foot of the bed and faced away. She dragged a finger down one of his legs, or at least what she thought was one of his legs. "City folk, always needing their beauty sleep. If you don't get out of bed and walk around this ship with me right now, I swear to God…I'll put a blueberry ban on any food we eat in the next two weeks."

That made Nick pause. She wouldn't, right? "You wouldn't."

Smiling at the fact that she was getting somewhere with the stubborn fox, Judy kept with the ruse. "I will. And I'll get you on patrol with Fangmeyer for a week, when we get back."

"I don't have to listen to you."

Game time. While she wasn't particularly good at guilt tripping, she found that getting sappy with Nick tended to make him more inclined to her will. Judy put on her saddest, cutest voice that she could and sprawled herself over the fox's side. "You do if you don't want to ruin my _very first vacation ever_ , which I'm spending with you because I love you…"

Seeing Nick's head pop out of Mt. Bedspread brought a giggle out of the bunny. He was really cute when he was grumpy and sleepy! Judy helped him out of the tangled mess of sheets and threw his clothes at him. "Poor baby. I'm sorry for cutting your naptime short." she cooed.

Nick only glared. " _I am so whipped."_ After getting dressed he walked past her and gave himself a once-over at the vanity, adjusting his tie and smoothing his head fur back. "When we see everything, can we come back and sleep?"

Shaking her head and smiling, Judy dragged him to the door. "We'll get some coffee, if you're good."

* * *

Nearly an hour later and the two found themselves meandering near the front of the ship. They'd seen most of what the ship had to offer (spending around 15 minutes at a spa that Nick refused to leave), and just had a few attractions left to look at. Judy examined the map in her hands with a zealous intensity. "Okay so that way must be the other pool, which must mean the aquarium is that way…"

"There's an aquarium?"

"Yeah. Everything except for sharks. Kinda weird though, they have dolphins. Those things are a hell of a lot more scary." the rabbit remarked. Slowing her stroll, she turned back to her companion, just barely suppressing a cringe at his exhausted face. "Uh, you wanna get some food or something?"

Nick shook his chest left and right, hoping that his limp neck muscles would make his head follow. "I'm fine. We can keep going."

"Come on, we've covered plenty of ground for now." Judy said, smiling gently. She grabbed Nick's tie and dragged him towards the nearby food vendor. "Lets get some caffeine and fruit into you before you pass out."

The fox didn't resist, welcoming the small bit of guidance into his life. After deciding on food and ordering a couple ramen bowls (can't be blueberries and carrots all the time), the couple found a table by the edge of the ship.

"I can't believe we only have two weeks here!" Judy gushed, "You could probably spend two months on this ship and not get bored."

Nick chuckled, the sentiment not completely connecting with him. "I'm glad you like it so much. Bogo probably killed someone for our tickets."

They each slurped up their food, giving pleasant moans of approval at the flavour. The noodles were silky, just hard enough to be barely considered al dente, the broth was rich, and the various vegetables spread around the dish were nice and crisp. The sheer quality of it all almost made Judy forget that she paid _fifteen dollars for a_ _bowl of ramen._ She swallowed her mouthful, and looked to her map once more. "Where do you wanna go next? We still haven't checked out the casino, I'm not much of a gambler, though. There's also––"

"An ice rink!" Nick said, voice almost rising to shouting volume. His phone had vibrated while Judy was looking at her map. A text, from none other than Chief Bogo. Nick made an internal note to find out how exactly his cell phone still worked and stood up in his seat, slamming his hands on the table and batting the armrests on his chair with his wagging tail. "Get up, Carrots. We're going!"

"I think you need to slow down a little, sli–oh!" A goofy grin on his face, Nick grabbed her hand, whisking her away from the table and into the inside of the ship. The rabbit barely had any time to argue, but honestly? She didn't care too much. It was nice to see Nick so energized after his rough start to the morning. And so she let herself be taken away, like a princess being kidnapped by a charming rogue.

Many twists, turns and staircases led them to a rather fancy looking staircase, leading underground. The railings shined so brightly that one might think they were made from solid silver. Mammals walked shoulder to shoulder, squeezing in either to get through the entrance or out the exit. All had various degrees of excitement on their faces, and the liveliness chatter implied that there was a very good reason for their mood. Nick, used to weaving through people in a timely fashion while dragging his partner with him, got through the doors without any trouble. They found themselves at the end of a very long crowd, and upon seeing what was at the front, their jaws dropped.

The rink stood in the midst of a crowd, and it was _beautiful_. It was a perfect circle, around half the size of a football field. Only a set amount of animals were allowed onto the rink, and guards watched vigilantly from all corners, daring anyone to barge in and ruin the picturesque vibe. Glass surrounded the skaters on all sides, softly projecting light into the rink and tinting the air with a gradual roulette of pinks, purples and blues. The ice on the floor was the impressive part. Some way, somehow, it was perfectly clear and didn't scratch no matter how many mammals skated on it. The very ocean that they were sailing on was visible underneath the patrons, predominantly washing everything with an ethereal teal colour. Dozens of couples dancing on water in a giant snow globe. Judy watched, wide eyed. "How is this not at the front of every brochure?" she thought out loud, "I would have known if there was something like this here…"

A voice spoke from beside her. It wasn't Nick's. "It's something we like to keep on the down low. We don't advertise it, but we don't stop anybody from wandering in, either. We're hoping that it'll spread through word of mouth."

Judy turned to her right, surprised by the newcomer. A rather short cheetah was standing where Nick once did, smiling gently. He was dressed in a slick navy suit that complimented his fur, which glowed with such a sheen that one could mistake it for woven gold. Whoever this was, he clearly had some sort of station. The cheetah extended a hand, introducing himself when Judy took it. "My name's Michael. I work with Seabear Cruises. You're officer Judy Hopps, correct? It's a pleasure to meet you. You and that Nick Wilde are heroes."

Beaming, the rabbit put her hands on her hips and stood a little straighter. "All in a day's work, sir." Being humble was important. Nick was vain enough for the two of them already. Speaking of… "Um, I suppose you haven't seen my partner around? He was standing right where you were."

"I'm right here, Carrots." Nick piped in. He stood behind Judy, wearing a smug smile that, weirdly enough, portrayed some genuine excitement. Holding up two pairs of skates, he looked at Michael. "I've gotta find some way to thank you for this."

The cheetah shook his head. "It's an honour to be able to do this for you. My sister would have been next on Bellwether's list if you two hadn't stopped her when you did."

Judy began to speak, "We really appreciate the offer but–whoa!" she felt herself being picked up and carried away. Judy kicked her feet in the air, uselessly protesting. "Nick!"

"See you around, then! Thank you so much!" Nick waved jovially at Michael as he dragged Judy through the crowd and across the room, towards a series of seats where mammals were changing into their skates. He unceremoniously dropped her on a particularly soft, but very cold chair and crouched down, grasping at one of the rabbit's feet to help her.

She pulled away and crossed her arms, upset with his conduct. "It's not very nice to just _pick someone up_ against their will, Nick."

"Oh Carrots," Shrugging, the fox met her unhappiness with what he always did: irresistible charm and a smile. He tugged on one of her feet gently, seeing if she would let him help her this time. Her foot didn't budge. "I can't help but do crazy things when I'm excited. And I am. Very, very excited. We're going skating! You know, I might even forgive you for not letting me sleep in."

" _Nicholas."_ Judy groaned, and grabbed the fox's shoulders. Her gigantic eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as she forced her words out through clenched teeth. "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe _I don't know how to skate?"_

The realization hit him like a bullet to the chest. His mouth opened slightly and his eyes widened. He'd always figured her as one of those girls who was freakishly good at any and all athletic pursuits, but it made sense. It's not like there was much need for any ice skating in a small town such as Bunnyburrow. Nick searched his mind for the best possible response. "Oh."

"Yeah. 'Oh'. Now why don't you go return these skates and we can continue our–" An excited laugh interrupted her sentence. She tilted her head, asking. "What's so funny?"

Grinning like a madman, the fox ruffled Judy's head fur. "It's funny. I was just thinking about how fun it would be if I was the one to teach you how to skate. But now I actually can!"

"W-What? Nick, I don't know. We still have to see the rest of the ship…"

"We can do that tomorrow. I'm not taking no for an answer here, sweetheart." he said, grin dying down into a simple smirk. A gleam in his eye caught Judy's attention, a special window into Nick's vulnerable side that he saved only for life threatening situations. And skating, apparently. Her argument died in her throat, and she stopped resisting his efforts. She noted that she'd been doing that a lot, lately. Nimble fox fingers tied a pair of skates onto her with admirable speed, and soon she was walking up to the rink.

Michael had given them special passes that allowed them to skip the crowd and get in with the next group. Judy's heart pounded in her chest. Her legs wobbled slightly, skates messing with her sense of balance. _"Relax,"_ she told herself. _"You've brought down two conspiracies, three drug rings, and four bank robberies since becoming an officer. You can handle a little bit of ice."_

A thought came to her. She turned to Nick, who'd been watching her amusedly through those expressive green eyes of his. "Why are you so excited about skating?"

He shrugged. "My mom loved to skate. When I was a kid she'd take me to this rink in Tundratown…I was always nervous because it was an arctic fox joint and we were the only reds there." A pause. The last group to be on the ice was getting off now. The two shuffled up to the entrance as he continued. "Every time we went I'd tell her about how insecure I felt. We were like two drops of blood on an otherwise perfectly white ball of snow. I felt like I looked weird compared to them. Mom would just scratch one of my ears and tell me: if everyone was looking at us, we'd just have to give them something worth watching."

The fox's eyes glazed over as he recalled the fond memory. Judy smiled at him lovingly. Seeing Nick so vulnerable was admittedly a bit jarring, but the fact that he trusted her to open up a little made her feel good. They entered the rink, door closing behind them. It turned out that the glass was soundproof too. Soft violet light emanated from all around as music played from hidden speakers throughout the rink. She managed to glide across the ice rather effortlessly for a few yards. Her legs shook like crazy; a combination of her inexperience and her mind's confusion at her apparent standing on water. Her arms were held out to her sides, waving frantically on occasion as if she were a child pretending to be a plane. Managing to steady herself for a moment, she turned back to look at her fox.

She slipped fast, but Nick was faster. In a quarter of a second he was crouched down beside her, holding her in his arms. The confused, dreamy look on her face told him that she had no idea that she had fallen in the first place. He chuckled. Dumb little bunny. Smirking at her, he teased. "Careful, honey. I don't want to explain to Bogo how I managed to get you killed on your first vacation."

She tilted her head back slightly, letting her ears tap the cold ice. A sigh escaped her as she was helped back onto her feet. "This skating thing is clearly not gonna work out unless you hold me the entire time."

It was clearly a joke, but Nick just shrugged and skated towards her. "Okay."

Gliding around her, the fox took her hands in his and guided her into a rapid spin. Judy twirled shakily, suppressing a yell as she tried her best to not fall over. When the world stopped spinning Nick had one hand on her waist and another grasping hers. His eyes bore down on her intensely, raising her heart rate and bringing a rush of heat to her face. One would think that she'd have stopped acting like a schoolgirl with a crush once they hit 2 months, but as much as Judy hated to admit it, moments like these happened more often than not. God, the _smell of him_ was simply intoxicating. She suppressed a depraved shiver. Foxes had scent glands all over them, a lesson that she learned that a day or two after moving in and asking why everything smelled like violets. Simply being around Nick marked her as his, and though she would never tell him so directly at risk of being teased until her death, she loved it. And she could go on and on about his fur…

A thumb rubbing the top of her hand brought her mind away from him and back to reality. Nick smiled, bringing her close to him and holding her protectively. No words were needed. He would take the lead on this. The lights changed again, violet haze shifting into a pink one as a new song started to play.

Nick skated backwards, slowly so that Judy didn't fall again. Poor little rabbit couldn't stop looking down at her feet. He brought her closer, straightening her posture and bringing her head against his chest. Slowly they joined the other skaters' paces and began to circle around the rink. Occasionally he would whisper small tidbits of instruction; all variations of "Leave it all to me." and "Calm down, Carrots. I can feel you shaking." A couple of minutes into the song and she finally started to listen. Her legs ceased to tremble as if they were in an earthquake, and she even began to smile a little. Her technique, still amateur and inexperienced, began to improve. Nick sensed her growing confidence and began to waltz with her, deciding to have a little fun. He took a stride backward and pulled her in, quickly switching their positions.

Her gigantic lavender eyes widened, but she wouldn't let herself be taken aback. Not again. Her legs threatened to give out for a microsecond, but she quickly adapted to the quirks of skating backwards. She pulled herself into Nick's chest and drew back again, slowly spinning the two of them as they skated. They continued to dance in the midst of the other skaters, a couple of which saw them and started dancing too. To the smug fox's surprise, Judy kept up with his movements the entire time. Maybe even pushed the pace a little bit. His smile widened to impossibly giddy amounts. They sped up, adding twists and turns and flourishes here and there. On occasion they would split apart, dancing on their own until gravity brought them back together (or Judy looked like she was going to fall again). Soon they were routinely weaving through the other patrons, elegantly swaying in time to the music.

A minute passed, and eventually the song was at its last chorus. The light changed for a final time, and Nick shared a look with Judy. Time to bring their little show to a close. They made their way to the centre and stopped skating. A few of the other skaters slowed to watch them. They begun to dance in place. Judy noticed that it was just like dancing normally, except a little more slippery. Many a formal ZPD function brought out the couple's graceful side. Every time they made everyone else on the dance floor look like trash. A roll of her hips, fluid sways, and a couple of twirls later and the song was at its climax. Nick pulled her into his arms again, and skated backwards, turning himself and sending them into one last dramatic spin. As they slowed he lessened his support and dropped her in a controlled manner, they stopped spinning in time for a perfectly executed french dip. The song ended, and silence came.

He brought her up, and immediately they held each other, drawn together like magnetic puzzle pieces. Both closed their eyes as they basked in the warmth the other provided. The fox and the bunny. The cop and the (former) conman. The only two people in the world.

A couple of stray cheers gave Judy awareness that people were watching them. She pushed Nick away to a wholesome distance, blushing. A robotic voice sounded out from the rink's speakers. "We apologize for your inconvenience, but your time on the rink has run out. Please leave the area in an orderly manner to let others come and use the premises."

* * *

Blue sky stretched above Nick and Judy on the way back to their room. The heat on the deck was a pleasant change from the cold air in the rink, and the two basked in it happily as they walked along the edge of the ship. Animals enjoyed the ship's facilities all around them; lounging on lawn chairs and looking over the edge of the deck at the ocean. Judy could only feel just as happy, and though Nick wouldn't come out and say so his wagging tail told her that he felt exactly the same.

"-rrots. Carrots?"

The rabbit under question perked up. Nick laughed. "You're getting all day-dreamy. Are you gonna go home and write about me in your diary? Don't tell me that a little dancing on ice is all it takes to sweep a tiny little rabbit off her feet?"

She scoffed. "I was trying to find a way out of here."

"And back to our room, where you can use our handcuffs in creative ways?"

Judy ignored the remark and her feverish blush as they came up to the door of their room. Beginning to slide her card-key in, she noticed something was wrong. The door…it didn't feel like there was any strength behind it. On a whim she pushed it open.

The room was absolutely trashed, The walls were scratched up, reminiscent of Mr. Otterton's limo on the night of the Nighthowler case. Furniture was turned over and smashed, bits of broken wood and nails scattered around the carpet. The once beautiful silk bed was ripped apart, filling spilling out of it like guts from a murdered corpse. Judy's brain went numb as she walked through the room. The bathroom mirrors and the glass around the shower were all shattered, shards sprinkling every inch of the tile.

"What the hell…" Nick could only mutter his thoughts to himself. He wasn't particularly angry, just confused. Who would do this? "I-I'll go get a manager."

"Nick." The fox stopped, looking back at the bunny who called his name. She had a wrinkled piece of paper in her hand. "They left a note."


	4. We'll still take the whiskey

The front door swung open. Reverberations growled menacingly from the walls.

Shepard looked up from the food on the stove as his wife furiously took her coat off, throwing a stack of her paperwork on the dining table.

"Hey, sweetie! How was your day?" he called, hoping that maybe he would get an actual response this time.

"I don't want to talk about it. Where's dinner?"

He guessed not. He gestured to the assortment of pots and pans on the stove, smiling brightly in spite of her harsh demeanour. "I'm making it now! It'll probably be ready in––"

"Oh, you're 'making it right now'? Right now? Here's a _crazy_ fucking idea, Shep: Why don't you start making it before I get home so that I can come home and _eat it_ , _right now._ "

His ears pinned themselves to his head. For a while now she'd been coming home angry beyond reason. Any attempt at talking with her would end in the same way: she would yell at him until her voice was hoarse, and then lock herself shut in the bedroom. There was no explaining or understanding it. What the hell was happening to his wife? It certainly wasn't the stress. The woman could go two whole days without sleep and still be completely coherent. He could personally attest to that.

Why, then? For once, he spoke up. "Lay off of me, alright? I know that you've had a long day but–"

"Yes. I did have a long day. Thanks for noticing, mutt. You have such keen eyes." she scoffed. "What is it with you today? You think just because I'm smaller than you that I'm less important? Fuck off. I am so _sick_ of all you preds thinking that you can just walk all over me. Finish dinner. Right. Now."

Their bedroom door slammed shut, leaving Shepard alone with his thoughts.

A week after that, she was arrested.

* * *

The government insisted on driving her out in a discrete manner. No press, no protesters, no trouble. All that was known to the general public was that she would be released. After being thrown into a van with tinted windows at soon as the sun was up, she was thrown once more into her apartment.

The agents lingered for a while after that. Shepard had to sign some paperwork and Dawn had to be fitted with an ankle monitor.

He lasted the whole process without taking his eyes off of her. She avoided his stare for the same amount of time, but could still feel his eyes boring into her soul. It was obvious that he didn't get a wink of sleep the night before. His eyes were bloodshot, and he reacted sluggishly when the officers barged in. A half hour later, everyone was gone. Everyone except for him and Dawn.

The silence lasted for both longer and shorter than each expected, understandably. What words were there to say?

"I…" she began. Their eyes had met a moment before and try as she might, she couldn't break his gaze. Her mind raced with thoughts that were impossible to complete, and her hands shook with such a force that she wasn't sure if they would ever stop. Her legs wouldn't move. She could barely speak as it was. Prison wasn't exactly a fun place, but she was just about ready to get back into her old jumpsuit. This was a mistake. Granted, it wasn't exactly her choice to come back, but she should have left as soon as possible.

So why didn't she? Questions began to form, her own mind feverishly interrogating the universe and herself and everything in between. _Why?_ Why couldn't she leave? Did she _want_ to hear him berate her? Call her pathetic, tell her about how much he enjoyed watching her get tossed into the slammer? Did want to hear about how he had moved on? How after months of abuse and stress, he finally escaped? How positively _relieved_ he was when he got the call telling him that his wife was a terrorist and a criminal?

Did she want to hear him ask her for a divorce?

"Dawn." he whispered.

She'd forgotten what his voice sounded like. Her heart beat faster, and on reflex she turned away, moving towards her bags. "Shut up."

A hand grabbing her shoulder forced her to stop. She turned, ready to slap him, but froze when she saw his face.

Shepard was smiling, not a single muscle strained or forced. He was smiling like he had seen her just yesterday, and every day before that. Like the past year had never happened. It took her breath away. When was the last time she'd seen his smile? A pang arose in her chest. She hadn't realized that she would be so relieved to see it once more.

"Come home." he whispered.

He crouched down to her height and brought his hand off of her shoulder. _"Move, you idiot. Now's your chance."_ a small voice in her mind rasped. She didn't. Her legs still refused to move.

Miraculously, she opened her mouth, responding with a shaky "What?"

The wolf laughed, more out of shock than of anything else. He explained himself, voice breaking up into soft sobs on occasion. "Do you honestly think it's been easy for me? That I feel like I'm free, like all the papers try to imply?"

She didn't know how to respond. Standing still and staring seemed to be the only things that she could do.

"I still _love you,_ Dawn."

The words buzzed around in her head. He was lying. He had to be. The angle did he have? Was the police force still waiting outside? Were they going to burst in from outside and take her back? There was no way he was being serious. What kind of idiot would love the monster––

"I made you a promise, didn't I? Good times and bad. We can figure everything out later. Just please come home to me…" he finished, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Her paranoia died, and her breathing nearly went still. He really _was_ telling the truth.

What now, then? Would she go back? Did she even want to come back?

She looked back at him, realizing that at some point she had started staring at the ground. His arms were slightly opened, elbows turned and palms facing towards her. Wolves were known for being loud, but being in a relationship with one taught Dawn that body language was extremely important to understanding them. Whenever Shepard was feeling down, he'd come home, sit down on the couch and fall asleep with his arms in that same position. She always figured that it was his way of asking for a hug. Her favorite thing used to be seeing the look on his face when he woke up holding her in his lap, with the TV playing some rom-com she found…

What the hell happened to her?

The tears came involuntarily. The part of her mind that was still sane dryly observed how stupid they must have looked, standing seven feet apart and sobbing their eyes out in the middle of the apartment. She took a step, and the wolf across from her lit up. Another step. And another. Soon she was just inches away from his arms. His scent filled her nostrils. The mutt never failed to smell like freshly baked cookies. He took her into his arms, and for the first time in years they held each other. She hadn't even noticed that she was shaking until he held her tighter to him.

He was warm. He was always warm.

* * *

Harsh light slashed through the piercing darkness of the hallway. She still wasn't sure about coming out. The meeting place was an abandoned building; a perfect place to kill her and hide the body. A coyote in a suit paced in front of her, fidgeting with his cufflinks neurotically. ZBI. Probably from the undercover unit, given that her never gave her a name. She'd seen this particular agent before, at similarly sketchy meetings with the government. Seemed like he was the guy assigned to deal with her in every conceivable situation.

He pinched in between his eyes, sighing in exasperation. "What the hell do you want, Bellwether?"

"A vacation, sir."

"You think just because we let you out on parole and your preyo husband is dicking you again, your crimes are forgiven?"

Ouch. That was harsh. He was kind of cute, too. She guessed that holding off on that 'threesome' joke was probably for the best. Smirking at him, she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a phone. "No, but I have something that you want."

The coyote's eyes narrowed at he contemplated. The bureau had tried to get this information out of her for the past year, and to push it away because they didn't want to give her some time away from her apartment would be ridiculous. Dawn had them by the balls, and he knew it. He didn't even need to make the call to HQ to know that the answer would be a resounding 'yes'. The agent sighed once more, and addressed her in a serious tone. "No one can know about this. No one can know that you're gone, no one can know where you're going, no one can know who you are."

"Of course, sir. Thank you, sir."

"We're not doing this for you."

"I know, but thanks anyways."

* * *

Real Housewives of Sahara Square was on, and Dawn was going to watch the shit out of it. Never mind the heat that was cooking her alive. She nestled into her pillow and payed attention to the TV. Because the TV was the only thing she needed to look at. The TV was everything. Not the wolf at her side, prodding her with his wet nose and patient eyes. He was kissing her now, on the back of her neck like she always liked. Idiot. She wouldn't give in. She wasn't weak. A bit sloppy with her city-wide conspiracies, maybe, but not weak. Weak would imply that some lame wolf could make her do things she didn't want to just by being cute, and that just didn't happen.

Warm breath by her ear. A warmer voice whispering. "You know, you're really transparent for an animal with tons of wool covering her body."

"I don't know what you're talking about." she responded, focus completely on the TV, which she had watched it since after breakfast up until then. What was the point in stopping, anyway?

"Yes you do. You're scared of going outside."

That was a ridiculous and crazy statement.

…

With an admittedly _fair_ degree of accuracy.

She still had her reasons. They were good ones, too. What if someone recognized her and they got thrown off of the ship?

"They won't."

Liar. "How do you–"

"Dawn, I know you better than any one of the people on this ship and I can barely recognize you sometimes."

Sighting, she walked to the vanity and examined herself. She _did_ look…not like herself.

She turned, flicking her eyes between her sweet puppy and her sweeter bed.

A plan formed. A very good, very enjoyable plan for both of them. She feigned a sigh, and agreed to go.

Just as long as she could choose what they ate for lunch.

* * *

Their little tour of the main deck was rather uneventful. Less busy than she expected, too. Shepard overheard that it was because there was some new hidden attraction deep within the ship. Dawn wasn't one to complain, seeing that the food vendor she was walking up to had no line. She skimmed the menu, eyes lighting up in excitement when she saw that alcohol was available.

Smiling politely at the young goat working the cash register, she said "Two bowls of ramen and two glasses of whiskey."

The goat didn't return her courtesies in the least, which pissed her off to no end. He simply rolled his eyes (which looked pretty crazy, given that they were horizontal) and regarded her in that tone young people have when they think they're better than you; that mix of boredom and 'oh, i'm so cool and better than everyone'. He leaned over the counter, looking down on her. "What kind?"

Dawn wasn't having it. She returned the goat's attitude twofold. "The pasta kind and the alcohol kind."

"No, but _what kind."_

It wasn't every day that Dawn Bellwether found herself in glaring contests with snotty college kids, but it seemed that today wasn't an everyday kind of day. She prepared to give her future self a high five for delivering a really sick burn, but a hand covered her mouth before she could show the goat who was boss. Shepard appeared at his wife's side and smiled apologetically at the vendor. "You'll have to excuse my wife. She's an alcoholic and we're trying to get her off the booze."

 _She was not. They were not._

The brat raised an eyebrow. "So, just two bowls of ramen, no whiskey?"

Shep looked at him like he'd told a really good joke. "No, we'll still take the whiskey."

Their table was off to the side, but not so much that they would have to worry about the breeze. The white wolf slurped the last of his ramen as Dawn sloshed her cup around, watching the ice cubes become smaller and smaller. "Dawn," he began, "You need to relax with the day drinking."

"What? It's pretty much evening." she said, checking her phone for the time. 12:30.

"You can't just get sloshed every time you're nervous, sweetie."

Dawn scoffed. "I'm not getting planning on 'getting sloshed', Shep. Plus, its not like you complained when I ordered a cup for you."

Deadpan eyes watched her chug the rest of her cup, but ended up flicking over to his own. When he looked at his wife once more, she was grinning madly. She must have seen his…well, _hunger_ was the wrong word. His want? Desire? Longing? Damn. Shep rested his chin on his arm and looked away, blushing. "Okay. We'll have one drink. And eat your food before it gets cold."

* * *

Three cups of whiskey later and Shep found himself in the garden of eden. The ship's spa workers were extra kind to them when they stumbled in, for some reason. Two white vixens came immediately and brought them to a cozy little room with soundproof walls, candles and a hot tub. The hot tub in particular was _great._ It had really warm water (actually kind of hot, now that he thought about it) that flowed through the tub quite nicely, with a very smooth, almost liquid quality. He leaned back, stretching his body out underneath the water. Despite the relaxing atmosphere, a small part of his mind was still a tiny bit worried. Wasn't swimming after eating a bad thing to do? "Hey, Dawn?"

The sheep across from him stopped sipping on her mimosa and waved.

"I think I'm drunk," he said. The world seemed like it was spinning very slowly, and it felt like he was falling and could do nothing to stop it. "Do _you_ think I'm drunk?"

She giggled. "You look pretty drunk to me, Shep."

"Oh god…" he whined, absentmindedly splashing the water at nothing in particular. "Do you think I'm an alcoholic?"

Shaking her head, she waded over and straddled his lap. Soft hands and hooves like warm vinyl pulled his face down so she could kiss him. Dawn's lips felt like heaven. He held her tight against him as she intensified the kiss, only letting go when they both had to break away for air. Catching her breath, Dawn whispered. "I think that you can't resist a few drinks when they're offered to you, and you like to make me feel like all of my plans work on you when you're really just playing along, but I don't think you have a problem.

Shep smiled warmly at her, as he was wont to do. "Playing along, huh? Was I that obvious?"

"A little."

"Well, it's only going to work on me for today." He nibbled her neck gently as Dawn fought off her body's desire to flail violently. You would think that after being married to a pred for 8 years, instinct would be completely off the table, but it still had a very strong hold on her. She leaned into the affectations, successfully defying her brain. Chuckling softly, Shep continued. "I know you're nervous about being in public after so long, but we- _hic!_ -we can't just get drunk every time we go out for the next two weeks."

"I agree."

He blinked, caught off guard. "Wait, really?"

It was her turn to nibble him, now. She always liked the way he sighed when her teeth grazed his neck just right _._ "I think you have a point. The next time we go out and get drunk, which will probably be tomorrow, we'll only be doing it to have fun."

Laughter rumbled out him as he pulled her in for a nuzzle. "I have to admit, you're not giving me much confidence, but okay."

They both savoured the moment, delighting in each other's presence. Suddenly, Dawn drew back. Her eyes were wide, manic with realization. She smiled and grabbed Shepard's shoulders. "There's an arcade here."

"Okay, and?"

" _Do you realize what's usually in an arcade_?"

"Oh shit."

"Cmon!"

* * *

They first met at a party. He was a typical pred jock and she was a nerdy poli-sci major, but god damn did she hit it _hard._ Dawn Bellwether was a perfect mix of straight A student and frat boy. As alcoholic and problem ridden as it sounded, drinking was probably one of the most sentimental activities that they did together. Shepard didn't care too much. They'd been through a lot together, and they deserved to celebrate life whenever they could. Besides, it wasn't like they got hammered every night. Every week? The wolf took a second to ponder. Maybe, maybe not.

The arcade was nice. Games lined the walls and there was a huge prize box in the back. The open bar was fairly busy. A bit surprising, but it seemed that day drinking was more socially acceptable in a vacation environment. They had a few more drinks and made their way over to the games.

She was currently latched onto his back like a koala, living vicariously through his amazing skee ball shots. Shepard smiled. He was always rather humble about his talents, but damn if he didn't feel good rolling hundreds with every swing of his arm.

Dawn kissed the back of his neck and rubbed his snout. "I knew there was a reason I married you."

Shep smiled, licking her hand playfully and laughing when she recoiled. "Not because I make a very convenient tree for you to climb on when you're tipsy?"

He rolled another ball. The machine lit up, sounding a bell and flashing the word 'WINNER' on its neon display.

Dawn cheered boisterously. She attempted to jump off of Shep and into the air, but apparently cartoon physics didn't apply to her. After being airborne for was felt like a second, she sank like a rock. Her husband caught her before she could get well acquainted with the ground, of course, but he chided her for a full 5 minutes after that. What felt like thousands of 'You need to be more careful's and 'We _have_ to stop drinking' later, Dawn apologized, and dragged him over to the next game.

It happened to be the foosball table. Their eyes widened in sync, and the couple shot each other cautious glances. A moment passed. Two moments. Three.

Their doe eyed expressions shrunk into glares. It was fucking _time._

She was black, and he was red. His advantage lied with his reach, but her reflexes were sharp for a sheep. They glared at each other, nearly eleven years of happiness mutually and intentionally forgotten in a single, burning moment of pure competition. Neither would be willing lose today.

For a moment, clarity hit Shep like a freight train. They didn't only have a few drinks at that open bar earlier. They had nearly finished half a bottle of Fireball. The voice his mind fretted frantically. _"I'm wasted. In public. With my wife, who is also wasted. And supposed to be low key about everything she does. At 1 o' clock in the afternoon."_

Dawn dropped the ball into the middle, and the wolf's train of thought screeched to a halt and died. It was game time. They each gripped their midfield bars, and for a full ten seconds, zero movement was made. Each mammal waited for their spouse to make the first move.

In the end it was Shepard. His muscles twitched in a barely perceptible feat of trained expertise. The ball shot over to the other side of the table within a blink of an eye, just barely blocked by Dawn's goalie.

The sheep smiled. "Nice job, puppy! If you can keep making shots like that, maybe you'll make this game entertaining to watch. "

He chuckled darkly, saying no words. Trash talk was never his thing. Actions always spoke louder than words. The wolf took hold of his offense bar, where three foosmen stood, ready to answer his beck and call.

Back in the day, foosball was the campus party sport, and after they had started dating, the legendary SheepDog combo was feared for their extreme talent at the game. Especially when drunk off their sheaths. Other students would whisper to each other in the back corners of frat parties, cowering in fear of the two. No one won against the Bellwethers. Well, they lost against another team once, but only because Dawn had ended up vomiting all over the table. On nights that they had one on one matches crowds of hundreds would gather around them, cheering and screaming as they engaged in glorious battle.

Matches between the couple were always way too long, so they usually played until someone got to three points first.

 _CRACK!_

The dreadful sound of the ball going through his goal rang through Shep's ears. _"Shit, I should have been paying attention."_ He shook his head, vowing to get his head in the game. The wool covered marshmallow across from him giggled maliciously. All she received back was a glare as the ball was once more placed into the middle.

His wrist turned quickly, force and power behind every movement. The ball shot back and forth between the table. _Clack. Whap! Smack!_ No banter was exchanged during, only baited looks and cocky smirks. Before they knew it, a crowd had gathered and started watching. Quiet at first, but growing more and more involved with the game as time went on.

To Shep's fortune, Dawn had started to let down her guard. He could see it in her movements. Every time he took a shot, she would hesitate before blocking. He wouldn't look up from the table, but he reckoned that she was glancing around at the impromptu crowd. She'd always talked about how she could never get used to public speaking or presentations, even after she rose up to Assistant Mayor. It almost made him feel bad for scoring on her.

A rattling noise sounded out from Dawn's end, followed by raucous yelling by the engrossed crowd. She groaned, and reset the game. The score was 1 to 1, now.

Once more the ball raced back and forth between both ends of the table. The couple danced between their different bars, sturdy tigers skewered on metal poles spinning and strafing at the flick of their masters' wrists. A particularly intense volley arose near Shep's goal between his defence and Dawn's offence. Shots and blocks clacking loudly, rapidly, creating a percussive beat that caused the crowd to cheer them on with every hit. Shepard growled involuntarily, baby blue pupils dilating out of pure focus.

Eventually, their spinning shots lined up, and the ball took to the air. Many pairs of eyes looked away from the table as it shot upwards, sailing towards the ceiling like a miniature rocket ship. It reached quickly reached the peak of its ascension, and fell back down.

Time slowed as the ball made its descent.

Falling.

Closer.

And closer.

Mere seconds until it reached shooting range…

 _Now!_

Foosmen on both sides spun vigorously, making contact with the ball as soon as it was physically possible…

A slow, agonizing cry sounded out from the ball as it shattered.

The crowd fell silent.

The couple looked up in shock.

"Yeaaaaaaaaaah!" The small crowd began to cheer. A particularly tipsy tiger grabbed Dawn and held her up in celebration. Shep prepared to step in, worried for her safety, but rid himself of that thought as soon as he saw the smile on her face. Dawn was ecstatic, and she yelled and smiled along with the crowd in such a way that the wolf almost felt himself tear up. It had been a long time since he'd seen her smile with a group of people. These people adored her almost as much as they did over a year ago, when she was first appointed mayor. They would have very different feelings about her if they knew who she _actually_ was, but right now she was simply a sheep. A sheep with pretty eyes and creamy beige wool and a weird talent for drunk foosball in the middle of the day.

Shep cheered, the crowd's happiness infecting him.

* * *

The bed was nice. Soft. One could even have described it as fucking heavenly. Dawn rolled around in it, enjoying the feeling of the impossibly plush pillows rubbing against her head. Her clothes were strewn across the floor, leaving her with just her panties on. She called out to her husband, who was peeing in the bathroom. "Shepard…I think we've had too much alcohol."

A padded over, near the door. Water ran from the faucet. After an eternity of fumbling with the doorknob, Shep popped out of the bathroom. He had a playful gait to his walk, shoulders wiggling in time to a song that only he could hear. He collapsed on the bed, giggling to himself as he curled up by Dawn's feet. "There's no such thing, honey."

Happy sighs came from both ends of the bed. They may have only spent four hours outside but to them it had felt like twenty. The opportunity to relax with each other and watch shitty reality shows was all they could ask for. Minutes passed, a comfortable silence resting over them. The sun had reached its zenith a while ago, and was now on its way to setting. Warm orange rays filled the room, painting everything with a tender glow. Dawn took it all in, eyes wide in an intoxicated fit of admiration. It would never get better than this. The moment was perfection.

Back in Zootopia, they could never have fun like this. Dawn was trapped. Required by the law to never set foot outside her own home. It made her laugh, sometimes. During her reign as mayor, Shep would be the one to wait for her at home until she got off work. Now, it seemed like their positions had been switched. She was the lonesome dog, simply biding her time alone until he would be the one to come home from a long day at the clinic. The best part of her day was always seeing him walk through their apartment door.

It shocked her, how fun the whole day had been. She had forgotten what going out with him was like. Had it really been so long? It seemed like yesterday that they were still dating and still in college. Dawn felt her tears build, but didn't bother to contain them. A sob rang out of her the next time she opened her mouth. "Come here."

Shepard dashed to her side and put his arms around her, holding her close. "Aw, Dawn, don't cry. Why are you crying?"

She looked away, embarrassed. "It's…it's nothing," she murmured. "Can you just, just cuddle with me?"

He smiled understandingly, and tightened his grip on her. "Okay. I'm right here, honey. I'll stay with you."

They fell asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

The night was just beginning when Shepard woke up coughing. Dust had accidentally got into his throat due to his heavy panting, which was a result of both thirst and the need to get the hell out of the room. The sheep in his arms was still asleep, and though it pained him to leave her, it was just too damn hot. He decided to go out and get some more drinks for when she woke up.

Closing the door behind him gently, he set out towards the bar. The hallway was perfectly lit, and activity was abundant both inside the rooms and out of them. As he walked by his keen ears picked up hints of laughter and sex behind the doors. It was obvious that he and Dawn weren't the only ones having a good time.

He turned the corner and found nothing. A hallway with exposed pipes leading to what appeared to be a dead end. Tilting his head, he cursed his lack of direction and turned around to find his way back.

Cold metal pressed up against his neck, the knife's razor edge digging in slightly. Shep's eyes widened. The mammal across from him was in a skin tight, full body suit underneath her hoodie, outline dictating a big cat of some kind. He walked backwards until his back was against the wall.

"I know who you are, Bellwether," his attacker hissed, voice betraying a distinctly feminine tone. "You think no one on this ship knows, but I do. God, TMZ never fucking shuts up about you, you know that? I guess it's pretty funny that the pred hating mayor was actually married to one, huh?"

 _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ He glared at the stranger. "What do you want?"

"Cut the shit. I know what you did."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You will. Put your fucking hands on the wall. _Now, grass chomper!"_ He did as he was told. The stranger laughed. _"_ Was that so hard? Let me tell you something, watching you squirm for the next two weeks is gonna be fucking amazing."

She went silent. Shepard shut his eyes, steeling himself for a stab. Nothing came.

A familiar voice entered his ears. "Hey, you okay?"

Shepard blinked, turning and searching the hallway for his disguised attacker and failing. There was only Wolford leaning against a wall. His eyes were bloodshot, his cheek fur was damp, and his smile was clearly not 100% genuine.

"Oh, uh, hey Wolford." "Have you been crying?"

"Maybe." They stared at each other. Wolford spoke up after the lull had gone on for too long. "Have you been…drunk, for the past few hours?"

"Maybe." Shepard responded.

Another minute passed with no conversation. Then, in perfect unison:

"I was just heading for the bar, so if you'd like to join me..."


	5. Are you serious right now

Fangmeyer draped himself off the edge of the bed, craning his neck upwards so that his panting tongue wouldn't have to touch the sheets. The ear that wasn't pressed against his pillow twitched as he listened, waiting for the mattress to creak as his lover turned over to face him. The sound never came. Maybe he was already asleep? He opened the nightstand's cabinet and reached inside. There was an article where a giant spider was found in a nightstand just like his. The poor beaver that found it was bitten and almost died. He hoped that he wouldn't become that article's weird sequel followup. Especially because they were miles away from any anti-venom and dying because of some furry land octopus was the last thing on his list of things he wanted.

He found what he was looking for, and discretely pulled the little black box out of the nightstand. Once more, his ear listened closely for movement. Soft breathing was all there was. He cradled the box in his hands, thinking about the rose gold engagement band inside. This was a mistake, and out of the thousand points that came to mind as to why, three kept popping up.

The first being that they were only 28. For all of the criminals and wrong-doers that they had caught, the both of them had only been in the force for four years. Besides, they were 28! They had a decent amount of years left before they were old and gross, and at least five more years before marriage became something normal, or at least expected.

The second was that they were wolves. They were paragons of kinship and obedience. Noble pillars of fidelity and low divorce rates. Culturally they were celebrated for their seemingly intrinsic sense of loyalty. Get with a wolf and he'd never leave you. Ever. It was why so many of them had broken marriages that they were too proud to leave. The old days were gone, they no longer needed to hunt or stay in groups to survive, but the importance of having a pack was kept by many. Wolves were social mammals. They needed at least one more mammal with them in their day to day lives. No one wanted to be the wolf that wasn't worthy of his own pack. It was why so many of them had the irrational fear of being alone.

He didn't trust Wolford to leave if things went south. He certainly didn't trust himself.

A third point came to mind, connecting nicely from the second: He was an fucking idiot.

"Wolfie?" he called out to the wall, hoping that the sound would bounce off and go straight to the other wolf's ears. A healthy pause sang out before a throaty murmur came from behind him. With Wolford, great sex always meant a nap immediately afterwards. They never really had pillow talk as a result. "You remember when I said it'd be funny to propose to someone while their cum's leaking out of your ass?"

Another murmur. Poor thing was probably in the death throes of being awake. Did he even hear him? Fangmeyer stared at the box in his hand, feeling his heartbeat pound from his toes. If there was ever a right time… this wasn't it. "Ah, nevermind. I forgot what I was going to say. Go back to sleep."

He waited for another murmur, and felt the thin blanket rustle as Wolford pulled it over himself. Breathing a sigh of relief, he discretely opened the nightstand once more and hid the box in its hiding place, inside of the giant complementary novel that came with the room.

* * *

The sea breeze was wonderfully refreshing, breathing life and rejuvenation into Fangmeyer's every pore as he leaned over the deck. His and Wolford's room had gotten way too humid in the past hour, and he was going to go crazy if he had to spend another minute in that bed. He shivered with repulsion. There was a line between toasty and being hot to the point of feeling sticky, and that bed just couldn't decide which side it wanted to take. Naturally, Fangmeyer left. It was a perfect opportunity to have a nice evening walk on the deck whilst reflecting on certain things.

Sea breeze. Seabreeze. Fangmeyer laughed to himself. That sounded like a race horse name. Why did horses always get the best names? Secretariat, Damascus, Zootopian Pharoah. His parents, god bless their not dead yet souls, had terrible taste. They had every name in the dictionary at their disposal and somehow he ended up with Jacob. Fangmeyer didn't blame them too much, though. Not completely. His parents couldn't have foreseen the travesty that was the Twilight Saga. The amount of "Team Jacob" and Werehuman jokes that were made at his expense…

He was lucky that people didn't usually call him by his first name. A direct result of his line of work. Even in private, he and Wolford tended to use either surnames or nicknames; another one of the many reasons why marriage wasn't a good idea. If they took each other's names, confusion was sure to plague their lives. Would they keep each other's surnames? He wasn't really down for that, either. Hyphenation was another option, but what kind of masochist wanted to legally be called Mr. Wolford-Fangmeyer?

The scent of the salt tinged mist gained a pleasant undercurrent of oranges. His tail was wagging before he could turn to see a gray wolf behind him, crouching, clearly trying to get the jump on him.

Despite his being caught, Wolford pounced anyway, and Fangmeyer found himself near helpless against the hurricane of fingers poking at his ticklish sides. When he could no longer fend Wolford off, and he was out of half-angry pleas to stop, he found himself lying on one of the nice outdoor sofas that were scattered throughout the deck. The heat had screwed with the piece of furniture as badly as it did their mattress, but Fangmeyer was too tired to keep standing. He panted harshly, looking up at his future fiancée. He had never done the whole "you look so beautiful" thing with Wolford but god be damned if the sun wasn't hitting him perfectly, defining his muscles and making his terribly kept fur look luxurious.

"That's what you get for ditching me." Wolford chided. He swiped lazily at Fangmeyer's legs, sitting down on the sofa when he pulled them up.

"Did you want me to die from heat exhaustion?"

"Yes."

For a little while, they watched the sea. The sun was halfway to setting but its light burned brightly in the sky, bounding over the waves in the distance and making them shimmer in delight. "This is a good moment," Fangmeyer thought. "I could do it right now. The ring's in my pocket and he won't be obligated by recent orgasm to say yes."

He ran a claw over the couch's arm. The whole thing had turned scalding hot in the blink of an eye. He turned his head a little too fast, a stutter ready to jump out of his mouth. A blush burned hotly in his cheeks. His tail attempted to stuff itself between his legs and his ears tried their best to lay flat on his head. "Hey, I–"

Water came from behind in droves, drenching both him and his side of couch. The moment shattered into a million pieces. Rivulets of liquid streamed down Fangmeyer's fur as laughter thundered from nearby. He turned, eyes wide with an even mix of anger and elated relief. A very familiar fox and bunny greeted his eyes, the former struggling to rein in his mirth. His eyes squinted, brain identifying the fox as something he needed to kill. He jumped off of the couch, legs carrying him towards what he recognized as Officer Nick Wilde. The ZPD's first fox officer and a general nuisance to everyone in Precinct One.

"Nicholas fucking Wilde!"

"Jakey! I didn't know you were on this ship! Well, at least not until a few minutes ago, when I had the idea to splash you with pool water."

They took off, leaving the rest of the world behind.

Foxes knew how to be chased. He'd give Nick that. It was probably a result of his past criminal endeavours going wrong, but the fox was fast enough to keep Fangmeyer just out of reach. The two weaved through crowds of mammals, sprinting inside and outside the ship, dodging carts and ducking under drunken elephants. Between screams of "Get over here!" and "Fucking fox!", he saw that Nick was slowing down. Fangmeyer chuckled to himself internally. Nick was more of a "get saved by pure, unadulterated, stupid luck" kind of guy whereas he and Wolford had the best cardio stats in the precinct. It was only a matter of time.

He inched closer by the second. Nick's strides were becoming lazy, uncoordinated. He barely even knew what floor they were on at this point. All that existed was him, and Nick, and the need to skin the cunt alive. Eventually Fangmeyer managed to grab hold of him, squeezing his shoulder for all it was worth. "Got you now, bitch."

Nick turned back, signature smirk threatening to turn into a full fledged grin. Fangmeyer's danger sensors went off. He was smiling. Why was he smiling? His grip loosened for a moment, and his target jerked himself away.

Glitter filled his vision, raining down on him from every conceivable angle. It burrowed itself into his fur and made its way into his eyes. He screamed, accidentally inhaling glitter into his mouth and throat when he was did. By the time the barrage was over he was left kneeling on the ground, covered in the stuff. He coughed, a sizeable cloud of glitter drifting out of his mouth. He looked around, feebly hoping that Nick was caught by the hurricane of glitter that he just endured, but he was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

"Run me through that one again?" Wolford asked, barely able to contain himself. His soft giggles were making him vibrate slightly in his seat, and while holding his muzzle shut had worked a few minutes ago, soft giggles were beginning to run free from their prison.

Fangmeyer glared at him, still covered in golden glitter. After suffering defeat at the hands of his adversary, he had traveled back to the deck and found the three officers chatting amongst themselves like nothing was ears twitched, sending a trickle of the stuff off him like displaced sand.

"He made this elephant trip while he was running after me." Nick piped up, his voice betraying his endless amusement. Fangmeyer directed his glare at the fox, but he continued, very much aware of the years of pain being silently promised to him. "It just so happened that she was a stagehand or something and she was carrying a bucket full of glitter."

Wolford snickered.

"Laugh now, but you're helping me clean up later." Fangmeyer muttered, staring down at the table.

"Oh, don't be like that."

"Fuck off." he snapped, quickly placing his chin onto his hand in an attempt to hide his growing smile. Judging by the look on Wolford's face, it was too late. He had already seen, Fangmeyer's angry facade was ruined. After a taking a moment to mourn his loss of dignity, he looked at Judy. "What wonderful activities have Zootopia's heroes been up to so far?"

She smiled at him. "We tried to tour the entire ship earlier, but this idiot," she gestured to the fox sitting across from her. "dragged me off to some ice rink to go skating."

"You know you loved it, fluff."

Judy rolled her eyes, ignoring him. "How about you guys?"

"It's been awful! Not even a day into this cruise and Wolford's already cheating on me."

Judy shook her head playfully. "What else would I expect?."

"That's wonderful! Who's the lucky mammal who gets to add to Wolford's life instead on weighing it down?"

Ouch. That hurt more than it should have. Fangmeyer winced slightly, but halted the movement halfway through. His tail and ears, ready to stuff themselves against his body, froze in their upright positions. He held them there and after a moment, they were ready to be left on their own once again. A look around the table told him that no one had noticed except for Nick, whose smirk had lessened by a minuscule amount. He wanted to sob. "God damn it. Now he's going to talk to me in private and ask me what's wrong, and I'm probably going to tell him."

Wolford groaned, completely oblivious the other wolf's internal dialogue. "Met this really nice guy when I went to go get breakfast. I accidentally crashed into him and he spilled his food everywhere. Really friendly."

Attempting to leave his internal predicament to his future self, Fangmeyer nudged Judy, mouthing the words 'really friendly' while making air quotes.

She giggled. "What's his name?"

"Shepard. Hopefully. I'm ninety-five percent sure. We're supposed to meet him and his wife for lunch tomorrow and if I get his name wrong I might kill myself."

Nick chimed in. "What, like Bellwether's husband?"

Wolford tilted his head, pondering the similarities. "Yeah. I guess. Shepard is a pretty common wolf name, though."

Fangmeyer laughed, a story popping into his head. The need to think about anything but his future conversation with Nick brought his mind to weird places. "But what if it was? That'd be pretty wild. Like if he and his wife snuck onto the ship and were planning to run away from Zootopia. And then we, as the only officers on board, had to stop them but they also brought a bunch of armed mercenaries. So we'd be forced to fight our way through the ship and there would be a climactic fight at the stern with an explosion and everything."

A gray furred finger made contact with his lips, breaking the tangent. He winked at Judy. "Heh, I guess that pretty much caps off our respective days. You guys have any plans for later?"

Nick and Judy shared a knowing look. "Yeah," Nick answered. "But maybe we can get drinks tomorrow? Watch one of the shows that you stole glitter from?"

They exchanged room numbers, and went their separate ways.

Fangmeyer felt a pair of eyes look back at him, no doubt they were Nick's. He pretended not to notice, like he did when Judy's nose twitched when she was talking about their day. They were avoiding something, same as he was.

He just hoped it wasn't another conspiracy. At times it was like their problems were destined to overshadow his.

* * *

The shower really was quite soothing. It was big enough for both Fangmeyer and Wolford to stand in, maybe lie down if they pleased. Crystalline glass surrounded them on all sides. Midday sunlight streamed through some of the decorative work, casting a soft rainbow on the two wolves. The glitter was coming off quite nicely. Sparkling water dripped down Fangmeyer's body, vaguely reminding him of a circus show he went to once, in the weird part of the Nocturnal District. There was this act where two naked otters covered in glitter swam around in a giant fishbowl. It was pretty hot. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of Wolford's fingers running down his back. If the water wasn't so rousing with its pressure, he would have fallen asleep by now.

No conversation was needed. This was a nice moment. Unnecessary, and completely Wilde's fault, but nice. The whole ambiance cleared Fangmeyer's mind from stress, letting it wander where it wished. Almost all of the glitter was out. He wondered how much it would cost to buy twice as much glitter, fashion it into some kind of bomb and place it in Wilde's squad car. Sure, Bogo would be pissed, but it could be worth it. Judy might get mad, too, but she was unusually tolerant with his antics. She'd think it was hysterical.

In the end he decided scrap the plan. Glitter was probably a bitch to get in bulk, and even then he didn't want to risk the bomb going off by accident. He wasn't the best with technology. Or delicacy. Wolford's fingers ran lower. He shivered in pleasure, thanking god for the fact that not all wolves were bad with their hands.

Hands. Glitter. Too much money. He gasped, and not because of the gentle ministrations he was receiving. Proposal wasn't the only thing he needed to talk about. What if Wolford said yes? Their apartment wasn't exactly what he wanted to live in for the rest of his life. He doubted that Wolford felt any particular affection for it either. They would save up for a nicer apartment, maybe even a house. But that entailed cutting expenses like entertainment, and alcohol (not that those were always two separate categories).

He smiled to himself. He boarded the ship with a plan, and it was time to act it out. It was weird how you could forget genuinely important things that you needed to talk about until your boyfriend was giving you a handie in the shower.

The air smelled faintly of wet dog. Fangmeyer reckoned that it was because there were two in the room. He was avoiding the bed; his thick winter fur was still pretty damp. He stood at the window, looking across at the ocean. It was still as beautiful as it was before he was rudely interrupted earlier. A small part of his mind theorized that Bogo had given him the room with a balcony and window over Wilde and Hopps because he knew what he was planning, but that couldn't possibly be true. Unless it was. The chief was an utter enigma. The day that Fangmeyer could accurately place him was the day that Dawn Bellwether personally came to his home for the sole purpose of giving him a sloppy blowjob.

In other news, their room was beautiful. He'd said this a bunch of times but it was true. It was the kind of place that ten year old him imagined himself to be living in at his age. Everything up to the bathroom walls was extravagant. The change from his and Wolford's two bedroom hole in the wall in Savannah Central was definitely welcome. A memory replayed itself in his head. He could, and would, get used to this. He made one of his ears twitch, and fidgeted in his seat. Hopefully his body language would send the signals it needed to. The box in his pocket felt heavy, all of a sudden. "Later," he thought to himself. "This first. That later." A shape in the ocean caught his eye. A seal? No, it couldn't be.

Rustles, displacements in the air behind him. A voice, smooth and soft in texture, like the satin sheets on their bed. "What's up?"

There was a lot going on in Fangmeyer's mind. A little too much, if you asked him. He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. He really hoped that he looked nonchalant. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"You've been acting kind of weird."

"Weirder than–"

"Weirder than normal, yeah. So…what? Is there still glitter in your butt?"

"No comment. You'll probably find out later."

"Are you going to throw up again?"

"No."

"I'm beat."

Fangmeyer sat still, focusing on inhaling, exhaling, then inhaling again. "Remember when Bogo called me up, the week before we left?"

"I thought that was because you put laxatives in Wilde's coffee again."

"I did, but he also offered me a promotion." He picked his chair up and reversed it, facing Wolford. "There's an opening for a detective to permanently handle cases in Tundratown's organized crime unit, and I kind of sort of said that I was going to take the job."

The optimism in Wolford's expression stuttered, and blinked out of view. Fangmeyer raised a brow. "What?"

The question was a hook in Wolford's gums. He jerked back, offended. "What do you mean, 'what'? Why did you say yes? Tundratown is in shambles right now, Fang. All the families, after Big died?"

Fangmeyer opened his arms slightly, the questioning look in his eyes flaring rebelliously. His voice gained an edge, to his surprise. "Yeah, that's probably why there's an opening."

Wolford's grip on the table he was leaning on intensified. His posture began to slouch, hackles rising. The gravity in the room became noticeable. Uncomfortable. "Are you serious right now?"

"Get to your point."

The words leaked shakily out of Wolford's grit teeth. "Three officers have been put out of commission in the past two months. Why do you think Bogo hasn't been sending too many Precinct 1 officers up there?"

"What, do you think that'll happen to me?" Fangmeyer mocked. This wasn't how this conversation was supposed to go.

Wolford stood up, beginning to pace feverishly around the room. "I don't know! Why the hell didn't you tell me about this earlier?"

"We were busy–"

"Busy. We were busy."

"Yes! Packing! I thought this was going to be a surprise–"

"It's a fucking surprise, alright."

"Not like that," Fangmeyer whined. This really wasn't how the conversation was supposed to go. He angled himself towards the other wolf, who was angrily making the bed. "The pay raise for this job–"

A ripping noise. Claws and frustration were not suitable prerequisites for handling cloth. "Who cares about the fucking money?"

"I do! I don't want to live in a shitty apartment for the rest of my life!" There went his inside voice. He was actually beginning to get mad.

Wolford went quiet. "Fangmeyer. You are not. Fucking around with Tundratown right now."

"Why not?"

"I stated my case not twenty seconds ago!"

"I'm not gonna get killed, Wolford. I'm not one of your–" He stopped, realizing what was wrong and why this conversation could have never gone smoothly. "Shit." His mind echoed. He felt like his body was going to shut down. Was he really that much of a fucking ditz? An itch at the top of his head began to flare. His eyes flicked back and forth between the objects in the room, looking everywhere and nowhere. His mouth was dry. Why did he say that? The voice in his mind wouldn't stop. "Stupid, stupid, stupid. You fucking idiot. How did you forget?"

"Not what." Wolford's voice was quiet. His face unreadable.

Fangmeyer stood up, at first making his way towards Wolford but then thinking better of it. He stuttered as he tried to defend himself. "I didn't–"

"Not what, Fang?"

They stood unmoving, a thousand words screaming for release but held back by the teeth. The air felt thick and syrupy with tension. Both wolves wondered briefly if he was drowning.

Wolford scoffed, and walked out of the room. The sound of the door slamming rang in Fangmeyer's ears.

He sat on the bed, alone with the numbness. What was the saying…Wolfords always die on the job? He recalled one Wolford's sisters saying that to him at a dinner, once. Right before she went missing overseas. She was ZIA, if he recalled correctly. The concept of a crime fighting family had always intrigued him. His idealization of the entire thing was why they started talking in the first place. Asking if the Chief called you Wolford #1 or Wolford #2 was definitely not the best first impression he could have given, but the gray wolf was strangely patient with him. Not long after that they were partnered up for the Misty Boulevard kidnapping case. And not long after that, once they had their normal partners back, they started dating.

It had been four, nearly five years since then.

It was ridiculous, how unbelievably stupid he was. In what world did someone forget something like that?

He felt sick.

* * *

It was dark, save for the neon lights lining the walls. The bass from the music made him vibrate if he stood still. Occasionally a bat would run into him, and he would look back to apologize but by then the bat would be gone. The Lights Out Lounge was the ship's premiere place for nocturnal animals looking for a place to party, and it was the last place that Fangmeyer wanted to be. He should have toured the ship earlier. Maybe then he wouldn't have gotten lost looking for Wolford. It was weird how hard people were going, considering that it was barely 8 o' clock. Drunken aardwolves and raccoons slinked their way through the crowd around him, spilling alcohol across the floor.

A splash of Jackal Cuervo hit his chest dead on. He groaned, hastily walking to the bathroom to clean his t-shirt.

The door creaked, sound waves bouncing back and forth between the wet tiles. Fangmeyer cringed. He never liked bathrooms. Public bathrooms, at least. The one in his room was awesome. The idea that you could never know if what you were stepping on was piss or displaced tap water freaked him out. Pure animality assaulted his nose, as acrid as it could ever be. It seemed like the lounge was trying its best to imitate the Nocturnal District, all the way down to the lack of cleanliness. He pushed a stall door open, looking for toilet paper to blot the tequila stain on his shirt.

Something caught his attention. Sat in the corner, near the toilet. A heart. Bloody. Bleeding. Pulsating slowly in a way that made feel him ten times more sick than he already was.

"I'm making this up." he told himself. "A weird sort of coping method, or something."

The heart rolled over, sticky and red, and it gasped for air.

He stepped back, eyes widening, looking more like a puppet trying to moonwalk on a treadmill. "Help." he called, voice loud and monotonous. His fur bristled, and training kicked in. He yelled louder, authority leaking into his tone but proving unable to drown the small lick of fear worming its way into his heart. "Help! Someone's hurt!"

But the music kept playing, and no one heard.


	6. I just needed someone to talk to

"We tried to tour the entire ship earlier, but this idiot," Judy gestured to the fox sitting across from her. "dragged me off to some ice rink to go skating."

Nick winked at her playfully. "You know you loved it, fluff."

She rolled her eyes, and opened her mouth to tell the wolves about their destroyed room, but she caught the look in Nick's eyes. Any words she had to say were gone. She raised a brow at him, but he wasn't having it. He turned towards their friends, giving them all of his attention and making it clear that there was no argument to be had. Judy was not to say anything about what happened. Why? Her nose twitched like mad. What reason did he have to not tell the others? It'd be stupid not to.

In the end, she decided to let it happen. Or not happen, rather. A while back she promised to trust Nick. He would tell her once they were alone.

She turned to Fangmeyer. "How about you guys?"

* * *

 _taptaptaptaptap._

Nick cringed at the sound. He supposed that cleverly avoiding any talk about what just happened was the wrong move. Either that or he had poorly executed his plan. Looking back, loudly talking over her every time she tried to bring it up on the way back was the worst possible thing he could have done.

 _taptaptaptaptap._

Their new room was nice. Nicer than their old one. The crew had set them up not 20 minutes after they told customer service what had happened. They had also gotten it for free; likely a result of their pseudo celebrity status. Any other pair of mammals would have been downgraded and charged, somehow. Their new window gave them a beautiful view of the ocean that all of the rooms had, except bigger. They still had no balcony, and they were still located in the main parts of the ship, but that was okay. The bathroom had a wide, panelled shower head which made it impossible for one of them to hog the water. Even the bed seemed to be a little bigger than their old one. Though that may have been because a certain bunny was refusing to lie down on it.

 _taptaptaptaptap._

She sat at the edge. Her ears were swivelled sideways, slouching slightly. Diagonal satellites made for the sole purpose of projecting her displeasure. Her foot thumped against the floor every few seconds. Her arms were crossed as well, and she was doing her damnedest to not talk to him. Body language was considered to be his specialty as a detective, and right now Judy's would explain that she was at least a little bit angry at him. A ridiculous notion if Nick had ever seen one. He couldn't think of any reason whatsoever for her irritation.

 _taptaptaptaptap._

"Carrots?" he ventured, sitting up. Her ears twitched, but she gave no answer. Nick crawled across the bed, creeping up behind her and laying his head over the top of hers. From his angle he could see most her face. Her eyes were hard but not hateful, which relieved him, but still she wouldn't talk. He got closer behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, squeezing softly in what he hoped to be a comforting gesture. "Hey," he whispered. "I only have a vague idea as to why you're ticked off, so you're gonna have to help me out here."

They both knew that was a lie, but it was a lie that gave her the chance to bring up the problem, which, in a roundabout way, meant that he was ready to talk. The straight line that her mouth had been making bent into a frown. She looked down at her joined hands before taking a breath and speaking for the first time since they'd left their friends on deck. "Why didn't you want to tell the guys what happened?"

Nick closed his eyes. "In hindsight, we should have. But the thing is we have two different versions of what happened, and yours would have given them cause for alarm. _Unneeded_ cause for alarm, I would add. Because nothing happened and we don't need to worry about it anymore because we have a new room."

He nearly fell over the edge when she stood up and walked to the desk. She turned around and leaned against it, eyes lit with something that looked like reasonable worry but was quickly crossing over into paranoia. "Our room was targeted, Nick. Specifically because we were in it. You really don't think that we should do something?"

And there it was. The core question behind it all. To do or not to do. The two options definitely had their pros and their cons. Nick took Judy's former place at the edge of the bed, leaning back and letting his arms support his weight, the general goal being to appear as stress free and relaxed as possible. He looked up at the ceiling, studying the immaculate white paint while he gathered his words. At first he saw no cracks or impurities, but soon his eyes adjusted to the light and the illusion was gone. The original paint job was near perfect, but age had worn the coat just a tiny bit, and that was all he needed. His eyes danced around the giant white rectangle, noticing minuscule fractures and divots where he hadn't previously. Eight feet away from him, a bunny cleared her throat, and his attention was focused on her once more. In the back of his mind he decided that ceilings weren't worth distressing over, and neither was their current predicament. "No." he said. "What would we do? Tell the security crew and then, what? Ask them to look over their security footage because we're barely famous? It's not like we have our badges with us."

 _taptaptaptaptap._ Judy's foot clearly had some sort of vendetta against the floor.

She answered him crossly. "No! We're going to ask them to scan their cameras because someone _screwed with their property._ Which is vandalism. Which is illegal. Which makes it a crime. And as officers of the law, our job is to investigate and stop crime."

He nodded his head, taking in what her words. "Okay, okay. But hear me out: What if we don't? Whoa, wait, put that down! Just let me explain. Look, Carrots, I'll give you the win on the security footage. We should probably look into that, now that I think about it. I was wrong there. But say we find someone. We'd probably need to find them and arrest them, right? Can we leave that to the wolves? Or the security crew?"

"That's not fair to them. At all."

"I know, I know, it's just–" he massaged his temples, shutting his eyes and groaning. When he opened them again, they looked tired. Green irises that usually shone with mischief were now filled with a sort of guilt. Like a child overhearing his parents argue about money troubles the day after Christmas. "I can't help but feel that any more stress'll kill our vacation. I wanted this whole thing to be perfect, Carrots. For you. I know that it's stupid, but back when you were freaking out about everything, every time I told you it'd be fine I was talking to myself too."

Judy's heart broke. She marched over to the fox and grabbed his head, turning his downtrodden gaze at her face. "Nick…"

He mustered up a smile. "Eh, I guess I'm just being a baby. Lets go look at those cameras."

"No!" Judy held him down as he tried to get up. Well, not really. She wasn't that strong. It was just that the downward pressure she was applying to his head was enough so he knew not to stand. She sighed. "I mean, yes. We're going to look at those cameras. But I want you to know that I'm having a wonderful time. With you. And nothing can kill that because as long as you're here and having fun, so am I. Besides, the last two weeks have been nothing but paperwork and boring stuff. Did you really think that the universe could let us go more than a few weeks without throwing some wacky adventure at us?"

He didn't believe her. Not completely. That was okay, though. He only needed to want to, and he did. He smiled, bringing his hands forward and caresssing her hips. "I would hardly call watching security footage an adventure, but I guess you have a point."

They kissed, and got up to leave. Judy was out the door first and, when her partner ended taking too long with his shirt buttons, told him that she'd meet him by the StarBucks. He answered in the affirmative.

Two minutes and Nick was ready to go. He made for the door, ready to face the rest of the day, but a small, folded slip of paper on the desk caught his attention. The note that whoever trashed their previous room had left for them. He picked it up, nose delighting at the blueberry scented paper. This criminal was an asshole, and put a hell of a bump in his and Judy's vacation, but damn if he didn't have impeccable taste. Nick opened the note, scanning the message written upon it. Big, blocky red letters were printed shakily onto the paper:

TIME TO LEAVE , OFFICERS

He gripped the note harder, leaving wrinkles at the sides. Part of him _was_ a little worried, but that very same part of him cried at sad movies when no one was looking. The larger, better, less emotional areas of his mind made it a point to reassure him that it was fine. Their stuff was fine and she'd be fine and by proxy, he'd be fine as well. There was barely a problem. Some of the Nighthowler heat hadn't died down yet and that made them extremely minor celebrities. This stuff happened to celebrities all the time. It was normal.

He shoved the note into his pocket, and left the room.

* * *

It was something short of a small miracle that they were allowed to look at the security footage in the first place. The security office was on the highest level of the ship, in a futuristic looking glass dome hidden by a row of seemingly useless pillars. The elephant guard that they had first talked to definitely had a thing with foxes, considering that he kept making suspicious glances at Nick throughout their entire conversation. The three had been arguing for half an hour before Nick and Judy decided to call it quits, but a guard within the security room recognized them at the last minute and cleared them for viewing.

The footage itself proved to be useless. The cameras detected absolutely nothing for most of the two hours that they had been gone, and at around fifteen minutes before they had arrived, stopped recording altogether. It was a little aggravating, but there was nothing that could be done. The crew had no control over the cameras, which had been going off at random points for years now, and neither Judy nor Nick were going to be suing a multimillion dollar company. Nothing of value was stolen, and they were immediately given a new room. The security team promised to keep a look out for any suspicious mammals tailing them or hanging around their room, and the two officers left as soon as they knew that there was nothing to be done.

"What did you think?" Nick asked as they walked down a flight of stairs, his voice bouncing off the walls.

"I think that I was wrong earlier." Judy said. She grabbed Nick's hand and brought herself close to his side. "I mean, the fact that the cameras cut out during the crime was suspicious but other than keeping an extra eye out, I'm not going to mention it anymore."

"Wow," he replied. "The queen of crimefighting giving up the chance for an investigation? I don't know if I should be happy or worried."

"I figure that if they're specifically targeting us, they have to show themselves at some point. I'll wait till then. For now, I need to relax." They reached the bottom, and stepped out into the light. The main deck was still brimming with mammals, but less so than earlier. Judy checked her phone. 2:00 PM. Kids getting tired, maybe. At this point most mammals would have toured the ship, made use of a few amenities, and eaten lunch. Logic dictated that napping would be the next step in that process. It was definitely the next step for Judy. As they walked in the direction of their room, she turned to Nick. "Can we take a––"

"Um, excuse me?" a voice interrupted her.

She turned around to find a young giraffe, in her preteens by the sound of her voice, but already 6 feet tall. Her parents stood a couple of yards away, looking on at them. Judy smiled. She loved kids. Taking care of her siblings was one of her favourite tasks back when she still lived on her family's farm. "Hiya! What can I do for you?"

The giraffe blushed. "Y-You're Officer Judy Hopps, right? You saved the city?"

"Well, I had a lot of help from my friend over here." Judy's hand escaped Nick's grasp to punch him on the hip. "Mostly moral support, but he managed to make himself useful a couple of times throughout."

Nodding profusely, the giraffe pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. "I want to be a cop one day, and I think you're r-really cool, Officer Hopps. Can I have your autograph?"

The question stirred a warmth in Judy's heart that she didn't mind despite the weather. She smiled at the giraffe, signing the paper with the given pen. "Of course you can! What's your name?"

"May."

"Well, May." she instinctively reached for where her stickers would normally be, but realized that she didn't have her belt on her. "You grow up, and you be the best cop you can be, okay? You're lucky to be living in Zootopia. Anyone can be anything if they put their minds to it."

The child beamed down at her, and skipped off to where her parents were standing. Judy waved at them as they walked away. When the giraffes were out of view, she turned back to Nick.

"You're famous, Carrots." He grinned at her. "Don't forget about us little guys when you score your own reality show, okay?"

"But you're my partner. You'd be on the show too."

"Not if the network gave you a new partner to patrol with, lest they send the wrong message to kids about foxes."

"Stop it!" she laughed, and climbed up onto his back.

"What're you doing?"

"You're carrying me the whole way back."

"Why?"

She brought her mouth to his ear. "So I can save my energy for later."

"Oh? I thought we were going to see a movie?"

"Before May walked up I was going to ask if we could take a rain check on that one."

"Okay, lets take a look at the schedule here…" Nick's face fell, and he pulled out his phone.

"Nick!"

He laughed, and reached back to boop her nose. "Screw the movie. Let us retire to our sex dungeon."

"That's more like it. Onward, fox! Your mistress demands it!" Judy made a show of pointing to the general direction of their room.

* * *

It was night now. Nick and Judy had retired to their bed for what amounted to three hours of fun and four hours of napping. Judy had awoken first, as usual. Her partner followed her lead not long after. They relaxed there together, fox panting and rabbit cuddling up to him. The silence was a healthy one. Cuddling didn't need words. Only two consenting bodies and a surface to lie on.

After burying her face in his chest fluff for an indeterminate amount of time Judy began to examine every inch of Nick's face. He had a slight fur discoloration underneath his right eye, and evidence of a small scar near the tip of his chin. Her mind raced, quickly forming a game for her to play. She spent minutes telling herself little stories about each of the unique features she found on him. The scar was from one of Finnick's claws after an extra embarrassing con. The uneven coloring was simple genetics, inherited from his mother. The tiny bald spot on his snout was from an ex girlfriend's fist. She took extra care to make sure that they were never too far from reality in the off chance that she could actually be right. The game could potentially be much more rewarding that way.

A finger booped her twitching nose, shaking her out of her thoughts. She drew her attention back to the whole of Nick's face. He was smiling at her, panting still. Earlier she had offered to get off of him to, to help with the heat, but he decided that cuddles were worth the extra breathing. She had to give it to him: he made the right choice. They kissed for what felt like the hundredth time that hour, softly sighing into each other's lips, breaths softly blending together into one. When they drew back for air, Nick looked at her strangely. "What were you doing earlier, staring at my face like I'd grown an extra eye or something?"

"Nothing important." she replied. Whatever happened to their previous room was barely in her thoughts now. "Do you––"

Someone knocked on the door, tapping in a frantic beat. Definitely not room service. Neighbours, maybe? They couldn't have been that loud. The walls between each room were rather thick. That only left the wolves, due to them being the only mammals on board who knew their new room number. Judy shared a look with Nick. It was his turn to get up. He groaned, tilting his head back and whining in the way that canines tend to do. Judy bit him.

"Ow!"

"Get up."

"Can't we just stay here?"

"No."

Grumbling to himself, Nick got out of bed, put on a pair of boxers and opened the door.

To say that Fangmeyer looked like a mess would be a disgusting understatement. It wasn't so much that his fur was disheveled and his hands were light red with what looked like blood, it was face. He looked like a ghost. Like he had died and he didn't know it, and he was just cursed to repeat his actions in life over and over again. Dry knotted fur ran down his face in long stripes. Dried tears, Nick noted. But that had nothing on the dead but somehow wild look in the wolf's pinprick eyes. He leaned against the doorframe. "Hey guys."

"Jak–Fangmeyer." Nick said, usual smirk not quite reaching his eyes. "What can we do you for?"

Fangmeyer chuckled. "Can I have a minute?"

Nick nodded, stepping out of the room and gently closing the door behind him.

"What the fuck–" "Someone's–"

They both stopped, waiting for the other to finish. Nick held a hand out in front of him, letting the other wolf go ahead.

"There's a lot going on."

"Clearly."

"We had a fight. That's why my face fur is such a mess. Because I've been crying. That was most likely at one. I stayed in my room until eight. The only reason I left was to find Wolford since he stormed out earlier because I'm a huge dumbass, but then I got lost on the way to the one of the bars. You know Wolford, the damn junkie drowns himself in vices any chance he gets. I ended up getting lost, found myself at a night club kinda place, sort of like the ones that they have in the ND. And then I got into the bathroom somehow and there someone on the floor."

"What, like, dead?"

He shrunk into himself. "Not exactly. The poor chinchilla was still breathing but she was beaten to shit. I had to take her to the mini ER they have on deck and everything. I still don't know what happened."

Nick brushed his head fur back. What the fuck was going on around here? "Oh geez…"

Fangmeyer shoved his hands into his shorts pockets, eyes looking around for things that weren't there. "Look, I don't want to interrupt anything. I'll go now. I just needed someone to talk to."

"You're not going anywhere, mutt." Fangmeyer, who had turned to leave, was stopped by a firm tug on his shirt. Nick looked at him with conviction. "You're going to stay right there while I go in and get changed. You need someone to make you feel better, and I'll have you know that I'm a certified therapist."

* * *

Not one scent in this pub belonged to Fangmeyer, and Wolford was glad for it. Not that he could smell very well anyway, considering the fact that this was a bar where smoking was not only allowed but encouraged. The smog made by the cigarettes and the pipes fused seamlessly with the terrible light, blurring the edges of nearly everything in sight. Anything here was indistinguishable from a dream. He and Shepard were at the thick of it, crouching over an undersized table at the darkest corner of the bar. A soft, cloud of gray drifted around them as they talked.

The better part of the hour had been spent with stories and laughter. The former coming from Wolford and the latter coming from Shepard, who was turning out to be an amazing listener. The gentle giant would listen to his tales with utmost attention, wide eyed with awe even though he seemed to have quite a few years on him. It was really quite adorable. He took another sip of whiskey, relishing in the burning sensation that the liquid gave his mouth. After licking his lips of any excess, he continued his current tirade. "So, stripper's knocked out cold because of the butter and we have to get the hell out of the place before the bouncers wring our necks. They were elephants, so that would be easy for them. Anyway, he suggests that we take the secret way out, because all pubs have a secret exit like in Tangled. And what do you know? It does. So we get the hell out of the club and we find ourselves in a giant tunnel."

"And then?"

"That part's boring. The tunnel just lead us to some alley near the natural history museum. But at the time I was scared for my fuckin' life. I was freaking out, yelling at Fang about how we were gonna lose our jobs…God, I wish I could go back and tell myself to relax."

"Lose your jobs?"

"W-What?"

"You said that you thought your jobs would have been taken from you?"

"Well…" Wolford began, cooly containing his instant panic at the question. "You know how it is. Everyone has cameras nowadays."

The other wolf nodded. "Yeah, I guess you wouldn't want your bosses seeing that kind of footage of you."

Over the years, Wolford began to notice that once a stranger knew you were a cop, an immediate disconnect was made. The brave officers of the ZPD were to be admired from afar, he guessed. The public loved the idea of them, but the very idea of them being simple beings like everyone else was off putting to some mammals. As a result he tended to withhold any information about his job when conducting business with potential friends, at least until he was sure that they'd be cool with the idea.

A ruckus came from somewhere behind them. Wolford looked back, and through the smoke he saw a fight arising by the pool table. Two raccoons had latched themselves to some poor lion, one holding on to the back of his mane and the other dodging his frantic swipes. The patrons around them barely seemed to notice, completely unaffected by the concentrated chaos happening in their vicinity. Shepard went to stand, to try and keep the peace no doubt, but Wolford simply held up a hand. He turned to face the bigger wolf again. "Don't get up to the Meadowlands much?"

"My wife is from there, but I don't think I've ever been." Shepard looked back and forth between Wolford and the brawl, bewildered at the lack of action. "Shouldn't we do something about that?"

He shook his head. "Watch."

The scrap continued as the lion managed to grab the raccoon on his head and throw her off of him before being nailed in the gut by an eight ball. He doubled over, backing up as the other raccoon batted him with a pool cue. The poor cat spent the next minute being wailed on before he limped over and passed out onto a poker table. The raccoon scampered over to continue enacting his wrath, but the table sitters stood. Neatly composed of three sheep and three wolves, half of them lay the lion against the wall as the other half stood in the raccoon's way. The fight was over. They had their fun. It was time to bugger off.

Mr. Raccoon (as both wolves began to refer to him in their thoughts) started to protest, but quickly realized that he wasn't getting through anytime soon. He swivelled on his heels, turning back and walking over to his friend, proceeding to unceremoniously haul her over his shoulder and carry her out. The other patrons, watching out of the corner of their eyes, returned to their various tasks. The pub, previously thriving at half volume, quickly returned to peak levels. Shepard watched the exchange with an even mix of awe and confusion. "Tell me, why was that preferable to actually stopping the fight?"

"Because we would've ended up joining in." Wolford replied. "Brawls like this always play out until one party is down for the count. Gives some mammals the chance to sort their differences and other mammals free entertainment. Peacemakers don't have too much of a place in the Meadowlands, and the Meadowlands are exactly what this pub is trying to imitate. The shitty lights, the wooden tables chipped to shit, the fact that every other sheep in here is hacking a dart…You'll notice that the mammals here are all likely to be residents. I reckon this ship has a little piece of home for everyone."

There were quite a bit of sheep, Shepard noticed, goats and wolves too. "I'd always pictured the Meadowlands as a really clean cut kinda place."

"It is, for the most part. But there'll always be that demographic of sheep that want to act out in the name of thwarting stereotypes and that shit. You mind?" Wolford twirled a cigarette between his fingers, lighting it as soon as Shepard gave the go-ahead. He took a long drag, letting the smoke gently embrace his lungs before breathing it back out. He picked up his whiskey glass and gestured to Shepard, who immediately mirrored him. "Here's to the Meadowlands. May it always be a weird mish mash of rowdy bars and suburban neighbourhoods."

"Meadowlands!" Shepard droned out.

They downed the rest of their drinks in long, greedy swallows.

"Can I ask you something?" Wolford said, after they had slammed their glasses down. His voice was slurred, and the rich bass that was the hallmark of his usual speech became wobbly. "I've been sitting here with you for over an hour telling you stories, and I enjoy it, I really do. You're a stand up guy and a great listener."

"Indeed, these are things that are true."

"You've given me nothing about you. I mean, you talk about your wife, and by talk about I mean mention that you have one and end it there." he continued, waving his hands around in exaggerated motions. His words were slurred, and he leaned over the table so much that Shepard was worried he'd tip it over and fall off. "Tell me a story."

"You sure?"

"Did I fuckin' stutter? C'mon."

Shepard laughed, and picked up his glass. He held it to his eyes, examining it as best he could in the awful light. There was still a single drop of whiskey sliding around inside. He rotated the glass as he began to speak, watching the droplet run across the clear surface. "I don't have many stories. That's not me being humble or whatever. I just haven't done too much things worth telling. My entire life I've been with my wife. College sweethearts. I have a few stories that I'll tell you later but right now I'm feeling a little sentimental."

He went on with the tale, which could be heard from the next booth over. How he proposed to Dawn, or "Sasha" as he had to refer to her in public. It was a story that she knew well. She could tell it in her sleep, and she often had Shep tell it to her until she slept. She tuned out her husbands voice as she shifted in her seat. After waking up without him, she wandered to the nearest place that was serving booze and found him by mistake. She was lucky for the smoke. Shep definitely would have smelled her by now if there wasn't any.

Eight years, they'd been married. Shep had mentioned in passing that he hadn't had any friends since college. He wasn't lying to this strange new wolf. He had no stories because he didn't have the opportunity to live any.

Dawn sat quietly in her seat. She felt numb, and not in the good 'wasted on alcohol' way. How much of Shepard's inexperience was her fault? How much of it was life?

She finished her drink, and left without another thought.

* * *

"You know, now that I think about it, Gone Girl probably wasn't the best choice for cheering you up." Nick mused as he and Fangmeyer left the theatre. Judy didn't opt to come, reasoning that she would have ended up making Fangmeyer feel like a third wheel.

"Actually, your shitty therapy is kind of working so thanks for that." The wolf replied.

One look at his appearance now in comparison to when he showed up to their room, and Nick could see that he was telling the truth. His posture wasn't as slouched anymore, and he didn't look like a coke addict going through withdrawals. Nick's patented ' watch a movie and avoid actually talking about your problems' technique of counselling a friend was a tried and true method, developed in the days of hanging out with a pubescent, hormone ridden Finnick. It was his go to when faced with downtrodden mammals in need of his help, and it had an eighty percent success rate. Gay wolf lovers quarrel and finding a near dead chinchilla in a bathroom? Child's play.

Fangmeyer rubbed an arm guiltily. " I feel bad. You and Jude were going at it like rabbits, no doubt. I didn't mean to ruin your night."

"Nonsense, Jakey. What're friends for?" Nick replied. Fangmeyer was one of the first friends that he and Judy made at the precinct whom they actually hung out with in their off time. When he showed up at their door looking for help, it was a no brainer. Suddenly, he halted, nose picking up the scent of oatmeal and innocence. It was a smell that he had only come in contact with a few times before, but it was unmistakeable.

His companion stopped and turned as well, raising a brow at him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm just gonna go and drain the snake really quick. Did you want to hang out more?"

"Actually, I'm a little tired. I'll go up to my room, see if Wolford's back yet. Apologize if he is."

"Alright, buddy." He waved the wolf off and walked back, checking over his shoulder until he could see that he was gone. When the last inch of that fluffy white tail disappeared into the crowd, he bolted for where he originally picked up the scent. Doing his best to track it, Nick moved inside, rounding a corner and finding himself at a maze of twists, turns, and closed coffee shops. He felt guilty about not telling his friend, but he had to be sure first and foremost. Fangmeyer wouldn't have been much help anyway. Wolves were known for having one of the best noses in the game, but even they forgot scents. A year and only one incident of contact (the arrest) ensured that both Wolford and Fangmeyer had forgotten, but Nick knew it very well. It was the scent of a killer. The scent he smelled on that day in the natural history museum, when he and Judy hustled her out of office. He walked further along the hall, stopping in front of a series of pubs and bars. It was definitely coming from here. He crouched down, looking for the source of the scent. It came in the form of a piece of wool.

He picked it up and sniffed it, hoping that no one was looking on lest he seem like some sort of freak. It smelled exactly like _her._ His eyes scanned through the names of the places where she could have been, burning them into his head, and then he got up and walked away. He needed to be smart about this. Bellwether was breaking her parole. She was on this ship somehow, and that meant the evil bitch had something planned. The incident with his and Judy's room wasn't a coincidence. The chinchilla that Fangmeyer was talking about probably has something to do with her, as well.

Nick pulled the note from earlier out of his back pocket, examining the ominous text. The first thing he needed to do was gather evidence. He needed to find her before she knew he was aware of her presence. He also needed to uncover her plan. Above all: He couldn't let Judy know until he was absolutely sure. Putting more stress on the bunny was the last thing he wanted. The wool was damning enough, but Nick needed more. Scent science was a tricky thing, and though he was sure it was Bellwether's, he could still be wrong. He doubted that the ship had a forensics lab on call.

He found a letter addressing him on the bed. His first thought was Bellwether but it turned out that Judy had authored it, and she was on a walk somewhere. The bunny never could stay in the same place for more than 15 minutes. It made courtroom testimony her least favorite task. _Perfect_. Nick opened the nightstand and found his notebook, ordinarily for doodling purposes. He flipped to a page in the middle and began. Writing the letter B in the middle, he drew four lines extending off of it to start. The web was set. All that was left was to fill it with delicious metaphorical insects.

"Alright, cotton swab," he muttered to himself out loud. He grinned, feeling like a detective in a cheesy TV show. "Time for you to fall in the face of the impeccable investigation skills of Nicholas P. Wilde. And guess what? He's going to have an _awesome_ vacation on the side."


	7. Everything is going to be fine

The night air was cold and trite. It sunk its teeth into Fangmeyer's fur and tore into his skin, taking his warmth with unrelenting force. He was glad that his room had a balcony. It was a perfect place to sit, looking out at the reflected stars across the ocean, being moody and sad. Normally he would have found something to appreciate about the moment-strong bouts emotion were oftentimes the only indicators that you were alive and real-but he was on vacation and as such, the moment was fucking awful.

A gentle wind breezed past, knocking a few embers off his cigarette. His eyes tracked the glowing sparks as they drifted in the night air, floating up towards the sky before disappearing altogether. The full moon above gleamed brightly down upon him. He wouldn't bother trying to look for Wolford again. If the gray wolf wanted to be found, he would have been. It wasn't worth the chance of stumbling into another incident like the nightclub. Fangmeyer took another drag, letting the smoke leisurely roll out of his mouth when he exhaled. That poor chinchilla…he wondered if she was okay, and then wondered if he was. The beating heart still pulsed wildly in his head, its image ingrained into his brain. He shook his head. He didn't _see_ things. Seeing things was not a part of his usual behaviour. Briefly he regretted not mentioning it to Nick, but that would have made the fox even more worried, and Fangmeyer didn't want to do that to his friend. Especially during vacation.

And what a vacation it was. Barely a day in and he had already pissed off Wolford so much that they were in a full on fight.

Behind him, the door opened. Someone stumbled into the room. Fangmeyer figured that it could be either Wolford or a criminal intent on murdering him. A moment passed and he caught a scent. Definitely Wolford. A small part of him was wishing for the criminal, but this was fine too. He heard the sounds of a shirt hitting the ground and a belt being undone. Not long after that he heard the bed being made. Pillows were rearranged and the springs squeaked elegantly as the sheets were straightened. Various objects were picked up and needlessly organized on the night stand and the vanity. Finally the footsteps came to him, and the zipping sound of the screen door being slid open flooded his ears, drowning out the ocean breeze and the gentle burning of his smoke.

"You're smoking." Wolford purred from behind. No doubt he was drunk. His words were slurred, blended together like paint. There was no edge to his voice. He was just making a simple observation and denying that it was real. This argument was an old one, and there wasn't any energy left in either of them to continue. Not with a new fight to take its place. Fangmeyer's body displayed his submission, tail stuffing itself between his legs, ears flattening against his head.

"I am." he replied. "I know you were, too. I can smell it on you. Is that Mareboro?" Silence. He continued. "Hey, do they have a Meadowlands bar in here? I came across a Night District one earlier so I guess––"

"Stop it."

Wolford was a bit of an addict, and he wasn't going to be quitting anytime soon, but that didn't mean that it was okay for Fang to smoke too. Tobacco was bad. Mammals with sensitive noses would even describe it as rude. One wolf with a problem was better than two. Fangmeyer took one last drag before quietly putting out the cigarette. He stood, marvelling one last time both at how nice the moon looked tonight and how fucked he was, and exited the balcony.

From what Fangmeyer could see, the room had been completely tidied up. Cleanliness roamed its expanse, no mess to be found anywhere. Wolford looked the exact opposite. He careened back and forth, centre of gravity thrown away with whiskey and smoke, and his fur was unkempt. The gray wolf stumbled into bed and turned off the lamp, killing the only source of light in the room.

Not like it mattered. Normal vision switched to night in a barely perceptible second as Fangmeyer's eyes adjusted. He stood in the balcony's doorframe, awkwardly standing there before remembering to close it. The sharp toothed night air was gone, leaving him with wounds he didn't want to heal. He crept up to the bed, standing before it. He wasn't about to go to sleep. Not without at least talking about what happened. Not without apologizing.

"Wolford?" he hazarded.

"Go to bed."

The quickness of the reply made him flinch, but he willed himself to push onward. A rolodex of retorts spun hastily in his mind, possible arguments and words to say struggling to break free and be spoken. He trapped himself in an endless cycle, standing there, opening his mouth and closing it, over and over again––

––until finally he slipped in to bed. Nearly an entire meter took up the space between them. He thought about at least having a foot make contact with Wolford, but shut his eyes instead. They would talk in the morning, and everything was going to be fine.

* * *

Blazing white lights lit the entirety of the gym. The abrasive hum of the treadmills and the clinking of metal on metal filled the space, the only variety coming in the form of an occasional roar of exertion from a predator.

Judy's surprise at how many mammals were using the gym at 3 AM was only surpassed by her delight. She never did like running alone. An odd statement, considering that she didn't think to bring Nick along, but he was still off with Fangmeyer when she left. The poor wolf looked more like an unwashed raccoon. She wondered if he was okay. The lack of Wolford by his side indicated a fight, and she wasn't one to insert herself into those, but she still wanted to know what was going on. She hoped that Nick was taking care of him fine. The fox was a sweetheart. No doubts there. He always meant the best for his friends. Unfortunately, his ideas on facing problems tended to be a little too escapist for her tastes. Knowing him, he had probably just taken Fangmeyer to the movie they were planning to see earlier.

Her pace slowed gradually as she realized that she'd been out for longer than anticipated. Nick might have already come back! She scolded herself as she turned the treadmill off. The whole escapade was just supposed to be a short walk on deck _but the gym was right there_. How could she possibly resist a few minutes or thirty? She set on the path to the gym's exit, narrowly dodging a few cheetahs chasing eachother in the process. She would've offered up apologies if they hadn't already blinked twenty yards away by the time she noticed she was in their way, but she supposed that it was a common occurrence for their species. The vaguely speciest thoughts brought her mind to Richard, the cheetah at the skating rink. He was so nice to Nick and her. Perhaps she could come by again? Nick would definitely not be opposed to more skating; a new fact that she had learned that day. Or was it technically yesterday now?

 _SQUEAK!_

Judy jumped back from the sound, to her shock finding that she had almost absentmindedly crushed a mouse with her foot.

"Watch where you're going, lady!"

"I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention–"

"You should have been." the mouse's tone was snide. "You could have killed me just now!"

" _I can still kill you._ " A rather dark part of her mind muttered to itself. She ignored it, responding politely instead. "I know, I know. Again, I'm not usually–"

"Hey wait, are you Judy Hopps?" she interrupted, voice carrying an undertone of excitement.

Recognized three times in the same day? "I am." Judy replied. "Listen, I'm really sorry about almost stepping on you but–"

"Oh. My. God! Can I get a picture with you?"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yeah, sure, you're forgiven and all that. Now pick me up!"

Confusion guided her actions as she picked the mouse up, holding her in her palm at arms length as to adequately capture both their faces in the mouse's tiny cellphone camera. _Click!_ Judy blinked her eyes a few times. That thing had a hell of a flash function for such a tiny piece of technology. She set the mouse down and exchanged niceties before finally leaving the gym.

A feeling of dread coiled itself up in her belly as she felt the cool night air on her skin. The deck was sprinkled with mammals here and there–sloshing their drinks around and tripping over themselves–but it was empty for the most part. She hoped that she wouldn't be noticed again. That the mouse was a fluke, or some kind of criminology nerd or something. The kid earlier was adorable. _This_ was getting onto the weird side. Was she really that popular? She was an officer of the law! Sworn to serve and protect Zootopia's citizens. It was nice to know that her work was appreciated but she'd be damned if it wasn't the least bit confusing.

Before she knew it she had arrived at her room. " _The_ _lights are on._ " she mused as she entered. She had left them dark before leaving, which meant that Nick was back. She opened the door after wrestling with the room key, quickly confirming her suspicions. Her fox was sitting in bed and watching TV. His ears were nice and perky, and his smile was genuine.

"I assume that things went well with Fangmeyer?" she crawled onto the bed and took her rightful place in the world, which (other than keeping Zootopia safe) was snuggled up next to him.

"As well as they could have." he answered. He turned his head, sneaking in a quick kiss. "You smell like pheremones. I'm gonna go ahead and guess that your walk turned into a full blown workout."

"Full blown?" Judy scoffed. "I was only there for half an hour." she toyed with his chest fluff idly as the TV ran softly in the background, the chatter of whatever show was playing melting into quiet noise as she closed her eyes. "You didn't have to wait for me."

"I know, but I had to make sure you were safe."

"Oh? From what? The many passed out party goers getting seasick over the rails?"

There was an icy pause, as if the world had gone still the second she spoke. Even the TV seemed to have stopped playing. Judy opened her eyes, taking in the sight of Nick's exhausted face. She lay a hand on his chin and turned it towards her. "Hey, you okay?"

Nick's eyelids fluttered at he blinked himself out of his stupor. He searched his mind, looking for plausible excuses. Anything that wasn't related to Bellwether. "Hm? Oh yeah. Yeah. Sorry. I guess it's just been a long day. Gotta get my beauty sleep, you know?"

"I thought foxes were nocturnal." Judy touched their noses together.

"Not this one, thanks to your crusade against my natural circadian rhythm." They nuzzled eachother, both eventually drawing back to yawn obnoxiously, and coming back in again to tiredly giggle at themselves. "Can we sleep now, Carrots?"

"Of course we can. Goodnight, Nick."

"Sleep tight, fluff."

They closed their eyes, surrendering to the soft waves of sleep that had been beckoning to them, drowned out by conversation until now. The day was over, and when they woke up, it would be on a clean slate. No break ins, no problems, no stress. Everything was going to be fine.

* * *

The door croaked ominously as Shepard wandered into the room, nearly tripping over his own foot on his first step, but through some miracle, managing to stay upright. Soft, gentle darkness with curved edges hugged most of the room save for the bedside lamp, beside which sat Dawn, still awake and on her phone.

"Heytheresweaty," Shepard managed to fumble out. "What're you b-being up so late?"

She took notice of him, looking up from her phone with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Hey."

Her expression tugged persistently at his heart, and after closing the door he flopped onto the bed. He crawled up to her and lay his head at her lap, making drunk puppy eyes that looked more like he was being possessed by a demon but still got the message across. He breathed in her scent, curiously noticing the heavy notes of smoke that were trapped in her wool. "Are you okay, hon?" he whispered. "You look amazing, which isn't usual for you because usually you look perfect, but you don't look so perfect right now." A pause. Ever discerning in the dark, his senses took in the finer details of his wife and noticed that they were off. There was a weird tic in the normal cadence of her breathing. Her mouth seemed like it was trying not to frown. The fur around her eyes was unkempt. "Have you been crying?"

"No." she lied. She went to reach for her phone, but his hand grabbed hers, bringing it to his mouth and kissing it gently.

"But you know that it'd be okay if you were."

"But I wasn't."

"Okay."

They fell into a odd sort of silence. One where words and sentiments ran free in their minds and never came to light. Where feelings demanded to speak but had nothing to say. A peculiar battle of wills that they hadn't gotten into since the week after Dawn's release. It was concerning, to say the least. Shepard was scared to death. They didn't fight too often. Not since a certain point in time that neither liked to remember.

But this wasn't a fight. Not yet, anyway. It all depended on Dawn. Did she want one? Did she want to repeat her lie again when they both knew that something was wrong? Seconds after seconds flew by, Dawn's options practically floating in front of her, ready to evaporate at any moment. "Shep," she began, "I–"

The door let out a thud. Something heavy had fallen against it.

Ears perking up, Shep shot up from Dawn's lap, head nearly swiping her chin if not for her jerking backward. He turned towards the door, hackles rising, lips curling back in a protective snarl. His insides grew hot, and a deeply buried part of his mind tore itself free. The sluggishness that came with the alcohol went away completely, along with his submissive demeanor, as if neither was ever there in the first place.

"Shep?"

He glanced at Dawn from his peripherals and told her to stay still, the tone of his voice equally surprising to both of them. Young and aggressive but old and authoritative, all at the same time. He slowly stepped off of the bed and approached the door with caution. His shadow crept along the wall in time with his movements, completely dissolving into the dark when he was mere feet away from the only thing separating him from whatever was outside. His eyes carefully watched the light underneath the door. No movement. Not since the first occurrence of the sound. He lifted a hand, heartbeat growing louder and louder as the inches between him and the doorknob lessened until finally, he grasped it. He swung it open, free hand raised and ready to swipe the invader with his claws––

––But found no one in the doorway.

Moving quick, he closed it and scrambled back into bed.

"Shep. What the hell?" his wife asked, alert but unable to hide the fear that came with such awareness. This wasn't just the booze. The wolf was barely one unless...unless her safety was ever threatened. Something was _very, very_ _wrong_. This was a side to Shepard she hadn't seen since they were young and stupid and still in college. Her problems could wait.

Shepard calmed his breathing as much as he could, and ushered the sheep into his arms. "Sweetie, I need you to listen to me, okay? But first I need you to know that it's going to be alright."

"What?"

"I need you to say it."

"Say what? Shep, you're scaring me."

"Everything is going to be fine. I want you to say it back to me."

"E-Everything is going to be fine. Shepard, _tell me what's wrong._ "

Their hearts raced in tandem.

"Someone knows who we are."

* * *

***Author's Note:

Shorter chapter this week.

Gonna take a tiny break. Maybe. I might just end up updating on the regular schedule (1 or 2 weeks) but just forewarning you. I've recently come to the realization that I've been practicing a weird form of stalling with all of my chapters. I've been writing and writing but I haven't been doing that with certain payoffs and the end in my mind. The next 3-5 (I don't know yet) chapters are going to be the concluding ones, and I want to make sure that they tie everything together and have the plot make sense and are meaningful and all that, so I'm just giving a little notice here that I might not update until maybe mid August because I need to think about the plot. But as I said earlier, I may just update next week anyway. We'll see.

I want to thank everyone who's been following and reading and leaving reviews and such. You guys are the best, and I hope that these next few chapters are worth it for you.


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